One Week
by orange-you-wonderful
Summary: Kaylie and Nicky are accidentally locked overnight inside a gym, and return to the Rock tip-toeing the surprisingly thin line between enemies and more-than-friends.
1. Chapter 1: Day Four

This first chapter is in Lauren's POV, so some of you might be immediately turned off, but give it a shot and stay with me past the first couple of paragraphs, when the banter starts. I had tons of fun writing this. =)

Oh, and update: I will include a sneak peek of the next chapter in every chapter. Enjoy and please review!

**One Week, Day Four**

Lauren Tanner knew she was smart, and on a level that set her apart from her Rock peers. Sure, she might have to strain her mind to remember what exactly a Pythagorean Theorem was supposed to be—despite having a paid-for-by-her-father tutor whose annual income rivaled a US Senator's—but she knew people, and that was more important. Lauren could read body language like no other, could tell from someone's eye twitch whether they were lying, and knew how to pick apart people's motives.

Toying with others' psyche was fun; make it obvious enough and no one took her seriously. When it was necessary, though, she could be all sorts of discreet and make people think and do what she wanted them to. The point of her manipulations was to favor her, but she wasn't heartless and genuinely wished she could help her friends. Problems arose when her interests clashed with those of people around her and she had to make the choice. Lauren sometimes took the time to mentally debate and weigh her options, but who was she kidding. Just like her father, who supposedly loved her above everything else, she was going to be selfish and place her needs and wants before others'. And just like her father, she admitted she was inclined to believe she knew people better than they knew themselves, and therefore was better suited to sort out their interests. Maybe her father was right and her mother should not have a place in her life. And maybe she, Lauren Tanner, was right, and Kaylie Cruz should be with Nicky Russo.

Of course Carter had something to do with her wholehearted support for "Kaylicky." Lauren could not count how many gallons of tears she had shed when she found out her best friend and the love of her life were swearing eternal love behind her back. The first time Lauren saw them grin stupidly at each other from across the gym, she heard her heart crack. And when Kaylie finally confessed it to her, eyes beaming and smile outshining the sun, it seemed as though she was getting her life force sucked out of her. So yes, if Carter could give up on Kaylie and begin to see that Lauren Tanner would take a bullet for him and die happy, that would be great.

However, there was also something else. Lauren did want Kaylie to be happy with someone. She didn't shy away from the shame that was having backstabbed her friend in such a heinous manner. Love spoke louder at that kegger, but that wasn't how she would have handled it, had she been thinking a little more clearly at the time. She wondered whether something else could have broken up Kaylie and Carter, and given her the opportunity she was having now to show Carter there were other fish in the sea. Would they have outgrown each other? Would they ever had fought over anything?

Was Nicky the sort of guy that would cheat on his girlfriend if he was ever upset? Never mind she, Lauren, was in love with a guy who had cheated on his previous girlfriend... she figured Kaylie just wasn't the one for him. But how good of a guy was Nicky? Lauren didn't want Kaylie to be disappointed yet again. Kaylie deserved a good guy.

Nicky hadn't even crossed her mind until she saw him standing awkwardly next to Kaylie in the post-Nationals photoshoot. The tension between them was mostly hate, but she could see that turning into attraction in the blink of an eye. All their arguments and debates that ended in eye rolls or indignant huffs began to give Lauren silent encouragement. Then after they buried the hatchet and began to help each other, Lauren thought that settled it: these two could work.

What about Payson? Did she really like Nicky? If yes, then... wow, Lauren was stumped. Well, in the end she always sincerely hoped Payson would find a nice high school boy who wouldn't remind her of the world she was no longer part of. And the good thing about being Lauren Tanner was that she could prioritize things most people couldn't. In this case, Nicky should go to Kaylie because she, Lauren, loves Kaylie more than she loves Payson. Period.

Lauren pushed these thoughts aside. She had three days to get Kaylie and Nicky together before he left for Denver. This "mission" seemed easier before they had a gymnastics exposition in Denver, coincidentally in the very club that had been recruiting Nicky. The exposition was explained by Sasha as an opportunity to train before the meet against the Chinese pre-pubescent elementary-schoolers—oops, she meant, gymnasts--and it had taken place two days after the Valentine's Day sleepover in Payson's house. Payson and Kaylie seemed to be on the same page about Nicky—leave him alone—which disappointed Lauren. But then she had been told he was only leaving in the next week, and Lauren figured seven days would be plenty of time to put her plan in motion and get Kaylicky to 'fess up to their obvious attraction and possible feeling for each other.

The exposition had gone over smoothly. The boys had been splendid, and Nicky had been the stand out, obviously. Lauren's routine on the beam was perfect, as it always was, and even the unrefined and sometimes amateurish Emily had managed to wow most critics. The real treat, of course, was Kaylie, and her flawless floor routine and vault. Lauren was used to being jealous of Payson, and accepted it, but lately she's had to get accustomed to eyeing Kaylie's catapult to international glory with weariness. Lauren doesn't focus on this too much, however, because immediately afterwards, MJ is pulling Nicky and Kaylie off to the side for some more publicity and interviews, and Lauren's attention is on Carter and his resentment that Nicky's routine on the still rings was more polished than his.

Lauren only heard about the "monumental misunderstanding" (MJ's words) the next day. Apparently, both Nicky and Kaylie had traveled to Denver a day before the exposition (therefore a day after the sleepover) with MJ's posse. After the exposition, it was assumed they would return to Boulder with their parents. Somehow, one of them changed his or her mind, the wires got crossed, and the two got locked inside the club while MJ thought they were with their parents en route to Boulder, their parents believed MJ had them in their hotel in Denver, and the club's administration thought no one was inside. Their bags, cellphones included, got locked in the locker rooms and they spent the entire night in the auditorium.

Once this was discovered—the next morning, mind you—the two "castaways" were retrieved but something had definitely changed between these two. Lauren was the first to notice, however, that same day, and only a few hours into their training at the Rock, everyone was trading looks. Nicky and Kaylie were by no means considered friends. But their night in Denver had apparently been World War Three, because their back-and-forth was unusually impassioned and they seemed unable to agree on anything.

Lauren was walking towards the water fountain, when she overheard a snippet of one of their conversations.

"I landed it!" Kaylie was insisting heatedly. "Even if it wasn't perfect, I landed the jump, so stop criticizing me."

"You started it, after I messed up on the horse," Nicky snapped back, "what was up with 'you seem unfocused today,'" he said in his best Kaylie impersonation, complete with high pitched and slightly nasal voice, "'so egomaniacs get distracted too?'"

"Yes—because it's official. Your own greatness distracts you," Kaylie spat.

"At least my distraction is not a guy whose hair looks like a disaster cloud."

"At least my ego can't be seen from space!"

With that, the two swapped equally hateful glares and turned their backs to one another before returning to training. Lauren was frozen with horror. What the hell. And neither Kaylie nor Nicky would elaborate on the reasons behind their uncivil behavior.

And their disagreements continued to worsen. Over the next day (day 4 of her "mission time") Kaylie and Nicky's tension had escalated into the sort of verbal battle people walked through the other side of the gym to avoid. Lauren had the luck of overhearing another conversation while on her way to the locker room.

"All right, you two have a press conference tomorrow night," MJ was saying, examining the distance between Kaylie and Nicky with curiosity, "in regards to the meet against the South American athletes. Only about 3 hours in length. Kaylie?" Of course, MJ was calling out Kaylie's attention because of the disgust that overtook her features when MJ added the "3 hours in length" part.

"Yes, MJ?"

"Do you have an objection to accompanying Nicky to the press conference?"

Kaylie offered an ironic smile. "I'd rather chew sharded glass for three hours, but aside from that, no. It'll be my pleasure."

Nicky produced his best fake laugh and said, "wit, check. Gymnastic talent...hmm where could that one be?"

Another glare, another defiant huff, and both had crossed their arms and were staring at MJ expectantly and impatiently. Lauren suddenly felt a rush of sympathy for the agent.

Later on, a Denver gymnastics magazine wanted to take pictures of Kaylie and Nicky for a spread on the two highlighted athletes from the exposition. Lauren overheard their fiery argument once again.

"He told us to stand closer together," Kaylie said with irritation. "So stop shuffling and smile."

"I wouldn't stand closer to you if I were being held at gunpoint," Nicky murmured back between gritted teeth that he was unconvincingly trying to pass for a smile. "And don't tell me our proximity doesn't affect you at least a little bit."

Kaylie turned to him with anger, now that the photoshoot was apparently done and the photographers were packing their equipment away. "Now that you mention it, it affects my gag reflex, if that counts."

Lauren released a mental groan.

After the day was over, Lauren was dismayed to remember that in only three days, Nicky would be transferring over to Denver and once again Kaylie's attention would be on Carter. She was about to give up and accept the imminent circumstances—the same she had had to battle before Nicky entered the equation—when she caught two curious sights.

She was throwing her bags and equipment in the backseat of her car, when she spotted Nicky out of the corner of her eye. He was apparently unaware of her, because he stopped by Kaylie's car and eyed it for a few seconds, shoulders low and jaw firmly set. He slowly let his hand hover over the handle of the driver's door, before turning to walk to his own car.

Immediately, Lauren locked her car and sprinted to the girl's locker room, where she slowed down and stealthily tip-toed towards Kaylie's locker. Lauren hid behind a large trash can and watched Kaylie to see whether she, too, would betray something—anything—that could clue Lauren in on the current Kaylicky front. She wasn't disappointed. Kaylie was holding a few pictures in her hand—and Lauren vaguely remembered MJ telling Kaylie she had brought a few "leftovers" from their pre-exposition photo shoot—and Lauren could clearly see Nicky in a couple. Kaylie was very still as she examined them, and the locker room was in such silence that Lauren was afraid Kaylie would hear her breathing. After what Lauren guessed were two or so minutes, Kaylie sighed, shoved the pictures inside her bag, and slammed her locker door shut.

Lauren sat down in her car afterwards and attempted to sort out all the questions these two scenes had risen in her. Why were they publicly mistreating one another while possibly pining after the other? What had happened in Denver?

Now that she thought about it, they had spent more than eight hours locked in that auditorium. Eight freaking hours. Had they fought the whole way through? Well, that couldn't be... as far as she knew, Kaylie and Nicky were actually getting along before going to the exposition. So what exactly had happened? She was determined to find out, even if the two were determined to hide it from everyone.

Lauren Tanner knew she was smart, and on a level that set her apart from her Rock peers. Including Kaylie and Nicky. She was definitely getting to the bottom of this.

In the next chapter:

_Kaylie decides she will go to his room, drop by, and attempt to ease her current burden by talking to him for a bit. She figures being with him is horrible, but being away from him is making it worse—ohmygod she can't even imagine what this means—so she should do her best to just react rationally._

_After her third knock on his door, she wonders what, exactly, in the world, she was thinking when she figured dropping by his room was a rational reaction. She turns around to leave, but the door opens and reveals a shirtless, wet Nicky, holding a towel just below his navel._

_Kaylie is speechless. But at least her mouth is closed._

_"Yeah?" he inquires after a few seconds of her staring at him as though he has a second head._

_"Uh... I was... wondering whether... you needed help," she says and wants to roll her eyes at her own words, "unpacking."_

_"Oh." By the shampoo bubbles in his hair, she figures three knocks led him to think there was an emergency at his door. Great. Very smooth, Kaylie. "I don't have a lot of bags. I'm done." He moves his towel just a bit to the side and as soon as her eyes unconsciously wander down his torso, she snaps them up. "Why? How many bags does a spoiled princess like you bring to a hotel she'll be staying in for one night?"_

_"One..." she says, then murmurs, "or five," which makes him smile, which in turn makes her feel giddy. Which is very, very bad. She must leave his presence immediately. "Anyway, I just dropped by to offer my help. So... good body. I mean—good bye," she corrects instantly, and can feel a bead of perspiration forming just above her brow._

* * *

A/N: I've been meaning to start writing my own fanfics for a while, after years of reading other people's. Once I read the awesome Kaylie/Nicky fics Love's Crash Test Dummy has been posting, I was inspired to write my own. So this is my very first fic (yay!), and I hope you guys like it. The structure will be a bit unconventional, as it doesn't strictly follow a timeline, as you've probably noticed. Lauren is narrating this on Day Four, but she begins by referring to Day Three, in which the exposition happens and Kaylie and Nicky get locked in, and Day Two, in which the two arrived with MJ in Denver (Day 1 being the sleepover at Payson's house and the night Nicky announces he'll be going to Denver). As a basic guideline, the chapter titles will tell you guys which day of "the week" we're on. If you have any questions, PM me. Thanks and enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2: Day Two

Hey guys! Thanks so much for the kind reviews and encouragement! I made this chapter longer just to compensate for the wait. To refresh your memory, day one was the day Nicky announced he was transferring from the Rock to Denver and the girls had their sleepover. This chapter is about day two, in which Nicky and Kaylie go to Denver for the exposition. Day three is the exposition, and day four was chapter 1, in which Kaylie and Nicky come back to the Rock biting each other's heads off.

I've also decided to include previews of the next chapter in each new chapter. So now chapter 1 has a sneak peek of this chapter, and this chapter has one of the next. Let me know if you like this idea. =)

Please review! =D

* * *

**One Week, Day Two**

Silence.

Ten minutes later, still silence.

Ten more minutes after that, Kaylie is wondering why, of all mornings, this is the one in which she chooses to forget her iPod.

She pretends to look out the window on her right, but really, she's trying to see whether her peripheral vision will allow her to steal a peek at Nicky, who is seating in the row behind her, inside the large van that's transporting them to an important gymnastics exposition being held in Denver the next day. MJ explained beforehand that many sports networks and sponsors envisioned this event to be a chance to gather the nation's best gymnasts in one place and give everyone a chance to show their skills in the club that had previously housed about a third of the last Olympic team. Coincidentally, this was also the club that Nicky would be part of in five days. Their Valentine's Day talk, in which they laid the line they promised never to cross, springs to her mind. She wants to kick herself, because she had thought he'd leave for Denver right away, and not stick around for a whole week more, or she probably wouldn't have confessed the whole "you give me butterflies" part.

"It's okay to look at me, you know," she hears Nicky comment and is slightly startled. "I'm sure we can control our attraction to one another."

Kaylie turns to him, and has to hide the effect his smile has on her heart rate with a sarcastic raise of her eyebrows. "I don't know... you're pretty irresistible. I might not be able to contain myself." She's relieved they can laugh about it now, because she was certain that this was going to be the elephant in the room for the next five days.

He chuckles and jumps to the row of seats in front of her and they exchange sheepish grins. "I forgot my iPod and my books, and I'm bored. You'll have to do."

"I'm honored to be your last resort," Kaylie says, and is intensely aware of how close their knees are, which disturbs her but is a thought she's able to bury quickly enough. "Nervous?"

"About the photoshoots and interviews? Or the actual exposition?"

She shrugs. "Well, I know you look like death warmed over whenever we have to do anything with the media, so... are you nervous about the exposition?"

"Well..." he begins, and she senses his hesitation. "To be honest... I'm always really... tense. Before any competitions."

"Oh, and here I thought you were incapable of human emotion."

His smile widens and she can see her humorous poke worked—he's visibly more comfortable.

"I go over my routines constantly. My mind never wavers from it. I concentrate on it so much that I lose my appetite, and can't sleep, can't think about anything else. That might have outdone me at Nationals."

Kaylie frowns because she's also nervous before competitions, but always allows herself some room to breathe. Apparently, he's worse than Payson, and she hadn't thought that was humanly possible. "Nicky, you need to distract yourself."

"I'm moving to Denver to avoid distractions." He clears his throat. "Like you."

She voices her immediate thought. "Like Payson." And then nervously squirms in her seat, regretting it.

"I knew how to handle it with Payson," he argues, and she feels a rush of blood warm her cheeks, and wishes she could control her reactions a little better. "You... you're..." He doesn't finish, and she can't understand why she's disappointed, instead of just curious.

"You're impossible to read," she says half-jokingly, then waits another few seconds before forcing a confident smile and saying, "and you're unable to complete your sentences."

There's an awkwardness hovering above them, but in the silence, Kaylie is for the first time since the beginning of this conversation able to look him in the eye without averting her own away with uneasiness.

"Are you thinking about the conversation we had by your car that night?" he asks in a low voice.

"No, I was thinking about you." What is she saying? Why is she saying things without thinking? "I mean, not..." Kaylie swallows hard and feels her stomach tie itself into cold, excited knots inside her. "I mean, yes." She watches the slightest of frowns creep into his solemn expression. "Now I am."

His eyes seem to her a tint darker and she feels as though he's managed to suspend time. Kaylie thinks about how differently she felt when it was Carter, and how she always seemed to be able to foresee how her moments with him would turn out. Right now, she can't even predict her own actions, let alone Nicky's. With Carter, there was always a comfortable element that is missing now with Nicky, with whom she is constantly on edge because her self-restraint is always being tested.

Abruptly, he rises from his seat and settles himself beside her. But before he can say or do anything, she immediately turns to him. "Nicky, we can be just friends until you go to Denver, right?"

He's visibly caught off guard. "Uh... yeah, of course."

"We can be good friends, even, right? Not a hint of anything else, right?" She's anxious for his agreement, and he nods silently, which fuels her on. "I mean, so what if we're attracted to each other? Attraction is easily resisted. All we have to do is last a few days. Totally manageable."

"Right."

She accidentally places a hand on his leg and instantly snatches it away as though their contact had burned her. "Right. We'll be good friends. We'll be with each other, interacting as friends."

"Okay."

"Okay."

The car stops exactly then, and the side door next to her rolls open, revealing MJ and two of her assistants. Kaylie practically leaps off the van, shoulders sagging in relief now that she's no longer in a confined space with Nicky.

"Ready for this?" are MJ's first words. Kaylie nods, and hears Nicky exiting the van as well, but doesn't turn to acknowledge it. "Okay, then. Welcome to Denver."

* * *

He's right across the hall. He's right across the hall. He's right across the hall.

For the last twenty minutes, although Kaylie has been pretending to be fully concentrated on unpacking, all that's been on her mind is the fact that Nicky's room in their hotel is across the hall from hers. And she's infuriated because she can't understand why she can't remove herself from this and focus on something else. She throws herself on her bed and buries her face in a soft pillow, mentally performing her routine, and concentrating on very flip, every landing, every hand gesture, every judge... aaaaand there's Nicky watching her in the crowd.

She wants to shoot herself. She's lost her mind. She hates him. Except that she doesn't, not really. She hates herself. He's probably resting before their interview marathon, or envisioning his routines as well, and she's in her room, wishing... she was in his room.

Kaylie decides she _will_ go to his room, drop by, and attempt to ease her current burden by talking to him for a bit. She figures being with him is horrible, but being away from him is making it worse—ohmygod she can't even imagine what this means—so she should do her best to just react rationally.

After her third knock on his door, she wonders what, exactly, in the world, she was thinking when she figured dropping by his room was a rational reaction. She turns around to leave, but the door opens and reveals a shirtless, wet Nicky, holding a towel just below his navel.

Kaylie is speechless. But at least her mouth is closed.

"Yeah?" he inquires after a few seconds of her staring at him as though he has a second head.

"Uh... I was... wondering whether... you needed help," she says and wants to roll her eyes at her own words, "unpacking."

"Oh." By the shampoo bubbles in his hair, she figures three knocks led him to think there was an emergency at his door. Great. Very smooth, Kaylie. "I don't have a lot of bags. I'm done." He moves his towel just a bit to the side and as soon as her eyes unconsciously wander down his torso, she snaps them up. "Why? How many bags does a spoiled princess like you bring to a hotel she'll be staying in for one night?"

"One..." she says, then murmurs, "or five," which makes him smile, which in turn makes her feel giddy. Which is very, very bad. She must leave his presence immediately. "Anyway, I just dropped by to offer my help. So... good body. I mean—_good bye_," she corrects instantly, and can feel a bead of perspiration forming just above her brow. She hopes he didn't hear her mistake more than she's hoped for anything else in her life. Turning to her room, she grabs the doorknob, and—just as she was thinking the universe didn't hate her enough—realizes she locked herself out.

Nicky is watching, because he calls out from behind her, "was that on purpose?"

Kaylie is still turning the knob from side to side desperately, and considers kicking the door, like they do in the movies. Does that work?

"Was that so you could take another look at me shirtless?"

She turns to face him so quickly her ponytail is a blur behind her. "What? Gag me."

"I know these muscles are intimidating." He's laughing and probably getting a kick out of seeing her so flustered, but she isn't letting him getting away with it (even if his muscles are intimidating and frankly, she's never seen a stronger, more toned body in her life).

"Intimidating? I was thinking more along the lines of vomit-inducing."

"Well, come on in anyway, until MJ comes back with her copy of your key," Nicky offers easily. "I'll have a bucket for you just in case."

She enters his room with hesitation, because now she's in another enclosed space with him. He goes into his bathroom and she makes her way to a chair beside his bed, before noticing that apparently he's spilled chalk powder all over it. So she sits down on his bed instead, because the floor will never be an option. And once she settles in and hugs a pillow to herself, she reflects on how, for some reason, she feels more relaxed now than she did in her own room. And once again, she refuses to think about what this means.

"So," Nicky begins once he steps out of the bathroom—fully clothed, thank God. "When is our first interview?"

"In five hours."

"What were you planning to do while you waited?"

Kaylie ponder his question for a few seconds. "Probably gone over my routines and series, over and over again. Until I got a headache."

"That sounds like me." He lays down on the other side of the bed, and his proximity hikes up her pulse just a little bit.

"Well, MJ said she'd do one of those interview cram sessions thirty minutes before. Just like the ones she usually does before every single interview."

"You sound annoyed with it." Kaylie shrugs, and Nicky continues, his gaze turned to the ceiling, "I hate the interviews, but I think it's important to get coached on what to say. Didn't Kelly Parker get slammed for calling out her competitors?" Kaylie nods, but smiles because any bad news about Kelly Parker is good news to every female gymnast at the Rock. "Yeah, I felt sorry for her."

"Sorry for Kelly Parker?" Kaylie scoffs with disbelief. "She's evil. She's the Antichrist. I think she eats children."

"I think you're talking about Lauren Tanner, Kaylie," Nicky argues after a chuckle.

"Lauren is just... manipulative. Most of the time, harmless." Kaylie swallows hard when memories of Lauren's betrayal with Carter become fresh in her mind again. "Most of the time," she adds quietly.

"Doesn't anyone stand up to her? She's the Rock's resident bitch. I mean, I would."

Kaylie smiles. "No. You can't do that. She'll make a coat out of you, Nicky."

"I guess if even you didn't want to cross her, no one will," he says, and something inside Kaylie melts, like molten lava.

"I didn't do anything because I was too hurt and humiliated and crushed, not because I was afraid of her. Not because I didn't have reason to. Not because I didn't hate her." She brushes a loose strand of hair from her face and feels infuriated. Before she can stop herself, she tells him, "Lauren made me feel hate, but I could handle it—Carter crushed me, and I guess that outshone what Lauren did, and suddenly I didn't want to do anything, and didn't want to talk to anyone, and if I didn't have gymnastics I probably wouldn't have anything."

Nicky sits up and crosses his legs, facing her. "I think you handled it well."

"I ran away. Just before Nationals," she counters quietly.

"And you still pulled yourself together and won," Nicky insists firmly. "When it mattered and the occasion called for it, you... were perfect." This manages to soothe her and she cocks her head to the side with a smile. A comfortable calm overtakes her and she lets herself trust this—trust him. For now. She won't think about her mother, Lauren, Carter, and everyone else that has ever made her feel like she can't let her guard down with anyone. "What is it?" Right. She's still looking at him like he just told her plants grow to 40 feet high.

"What? No sarcastic follow-up? You're really going to be just nice?"

"I am nice," he says, but she can tell from the curve on the corners of his mouth that he's containing a laugh.

"You don't even believe it yourself," she accuses, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm very nice. And charismatic," Nicky lists, laughing now.

"You have all the charisma of a knife."

"And I'm smart, too."

"Really? Because I think I've met kitchen pans smarter than you."

He mocks an offended look, but recovers very quickly. "And handsome..."

His chuckle is contagious, and she finds a giggle bubbling inside her. "That is... hard to argue."

"And talented."

"That is impossible to argue."

"And humble."

"And in need of a smackdown..."

Just then, the room is filled with the chords of a familiar song, played on loop as a ringtone.

_I always feel like,_

_somebody's watching me._

_And I have no privacy._

"I'm thinking you should answer your phone, Nicky."

His face is colored by twenty shades of red. "It's, uh... MJ." He ignores the call and tuns to her with a nervous smirk. "You said our interviews begin in five hours."

"Yeah. What about it?"

"I'll take you up on your offer to distract me."

* * *

They should have gotten to know Denver, he knew. But he just learns more about her, because somehow she's become this fascinating figure to him and it seems he just can't know enough about her. She tells him about how growing up, everything came to her so easily that it took her life falling apart that year for her to understand what she had, and what she wished she had. And how she wasn't like him or Payson, who knew they wanted a career in gymnastics right out of the womb. He shares that he has nothing else in his life, besides gymnastics. And his medals have lasted longer than all his friendships.

They buy their lunch from a fruit stand, and she teaches him how to eat pineapple and mangoes the Hispanic way. Then they go to a bookstore, and Nicky manages to find the magazine that keeps publishing stories about Kalicky. He tells her that she comes out well in all their pictures, and she asks him whether there's a compliment in there somewhere, which makes him laugh.

There's a park close to their hotel, and they lay down on the grass, and he tells her he grew up mortally afraid of chipmunks because when he was four years old, one of his cousins told him they eat people. She forces him to feed some of them, then tells him that she can't believe he can brave the still rings and almost ran away at the sight of Chip and Dale. He tries to laugh at that, too, but he can't.

She takes his hand and leads him to a little pond, where they look at their reflections and she tells him that she never feels good enough. Not skilled enough, not smart enough, not mature enough, not good-looking enough. He reassures her that she's more than enough of everything, and even if the last quality is subjective, she should know that there was always a lot of locker room talk about her at the Rock. Until Emily Kmetko came along, and now it's more like "Kelly who?"—and at this, she bursts out laughing and slaps him on the arm.

They return to their hotel and she's able to request another key for her door. Getting ready for their preliminary interviews is quick and easy, and he feels more relaxed now than he would have if he had slept, because his mind has never been more at ease before a competition. They pose for pictures and it no longer feels forced and contrived. Then MJ takes them out to eat and he and Kaylie laugh when asked what they were up to all day.

Finally, it's about eight o'clock and when their car drops them off at their hotel with MJ's staff, he realizes how tired he is and that even though the exposition tomorrow is in the afternoon—which means he can sleep later—he just wants to go to bed. Kaylie mirrors his sentiment, but asks him to help her get her TV to work, because she doesn't want to ask the hotel to do it without trying it herself first.

He gets himself ready for bed then heads to her room and kids that she's furthering the female vs. electronics stereotype. A pajama-clad Kaylie responds that he's furthering her impulse to knock his teeth out, so he gets right down to work. A couple of cables are disconnected, which is easily solved. They lay down on her bed and he complains that it's softer than the one in his room, and she tells him it's probably just psychological, since she thinks his is softer than hers.

Nicky is tired and wants to go back to his room, but each second he spends unable to raise himself from her bed makes it harder to do. Kaylie has already closed her eyes, but seems to be murmuring something.

"What?" he manages to say weakly, then leans his face closer to hers to hear it.

"My bed is... softer..." She looks just about an inch away from unconsciousness so he wonders whether he can trust what she's saying. "The chipmunks..."

"I've gotta go," he mumbles. His eyelids are so heavy and he closes them, but can still feel her scent. And that's the last thing he's conscious of—how her hair smells sweet, like the fruits they ate together.

* * *

In the next chapter:

_"Thank you for the food," Kaylie manages to say firmly. "I think I'll be good."_

_"Look at this one," Nicky suggests, apparently ignoring what she just said. He outstretches a picture he took from his wallet and she gingerly takes it. In it, she's talking to MJ and behind her, in the corner of the shot, is Nicky, and she can't quite figure out his expression. He's his usual sullen self, but there's something else. He's looking at the Kaylie in the photo with a mixture of fear and...confusion? Apprehension? Kaylie looks up from the picture, eyebrows furrowed together in puzzlement, and Nicky has exactly the same expression he has in the picture. And then she understands._

_"You have a crush on me, too," Kaylie chuckles._

_"But we already knew," he counters somewhat defensively._

_"We'll be fine, Nicky," she assures him easily. "I told you we were going to be good friends. You already did all of this for me." Kaylie grabs a sandwich, and he starts to open the orange juice. Something gives her the instantly regrettable idea of kissing him on the cheek, but as she leans forward to do it, he moves his head to the side to grab some cups and she accidentally misses._


	3. Chapter 3: Day Five

A lot happens in this chapter. Like, a LOT. It's almost twice as long as chapter 1 was, so this one won't have the preview of the next. Once you get to the end, you'll understand why. Thanks for your support so far. I love you guys... =)

Enjoy and please review!

**8:30 AM.**

Crap.

Kaylie wants to ignore her alarm clock, but can't. She's already hit snooze once, figuring that being sick excused her from her morning jog. With difficulty, she slides off her bed and heads to her window, throwing the curtains aside and allowing the sun's early rays to kiss and warm her. Never mind she can foresee nausea approaching her—she refuses to let this preview of the flu prevent her from training. She just needs to stock up on cold syrup.

Stupid Nicky. Damn it.

She's showering and getting dressed, cursing under her breath the entire time. It's Nicky's fault. Great timing to tell her he had been coming off the flu—after they almost made out. What. An. Idiot.

She fishes out all the cold medicine from the cabinets her mother keeps in the bathroom hallway, and then sorts them according to side effects; drowsy vs non-drowsy, muscle relaxants vs nausea and dizziness inducers... and then she takes a gulp from an awful-tasting cherry-colored syrup that promises it won't make her drowsy but will relieve her headache and nausea, and battles against the urge to skip breakfast. The last thing she needs is nausea _and_ something in her stomach she can throw up all over the mats. But if she doesn't eat anything, she'll burn out faster than people can say her name.

Yogurt. Of course. That will sustain her until the meds kick in and cure her.

**11:00AM**

Oh my God. She can't do this. This is it. The limit of her exhaustion. Seeing Nicky and his muscles parade around the gym has nothing to do with just how much she wants to drive away from there and go home.

But... two hours of training and already she's tempted to take the day off? What kind of elite gymnast is she? No wonder she was always getting the silver medal before Payson's injury.

No. She refuses to surrender. She remembers the jokes she used to make about being married to gymnastics, and forces herself to repeat over and over again what she had laughed about, which now seems like the only thing keeping her standing. "In sickness and in health, till torn ligaments do you part." _Not so funny now, eh?_ her mind is taunting.

_Get back to the mat, princess_. This time, it's Nicky voice inside her head, and it inflames her with enough anger to fuel her on. She sets up for a double Arabian.

**12:08 AM**

Kaylie pauses her training and decides to grab a water, even though last time she passed by the water fountain, she accidentally met up with Nicky and they were glaring at each other for the entire minute it took them to gulp down the contents of their cups.

She examines the area surrounding the water fountain and though she can't see Nicky anywhere near in the gym, she's sure he's not going to approach the fountain if he sees her there, either.

It's quieter, by the fountain. Kaylie closes her eyes for a moment and takes small gulps because she's tired and achy and slightly dizzy, and wishes she could just sleep the rest of the day. But then she thinks of Nicky's criticisms, and immediately her grip on her cup is strengthened with anger and for a few seconds there is something steely and hardened in her gaze. Kaylie doesn't want to remember--she constantly pushes her good memories of him away in order to concentrate on the bad ones and keep her composure intact. But every once in a while, when she's distracted, recollections of those two days—well, one and a half—they spent in Denver will creep inside her mind and this time, her heart will hurt.

Kaylie wants to sit down and take a breather, but these two minutes have been enough of a break and she knows this is what being a gymnast is about; dedication. Pushing through when her body is begging her not to. In sickness and in health... she repeats the mantra.

She wonders whether she should have another dose of the flu medicine she took that morning, after all, her headache is getting worse and her stomach feels like it was turned inside out. Kaylie takes another deep breath and continues to feel woozy and weak.

She steals a glance at the uneven bars and can't imagine lifting herself up. She then considers the beam for a few seconds, but when she watches Lauren perform a double front dismount she immediately becomes nauseous. She can't stick a landing like that when she feels like her gut is rising up to her throat. She leans on the water fountain to steady herself. Mind over matter, Kaylie, she tells herself. If you don't mind it doesn't matter. Another deep breath. And then she pushes herself away from the fountain, but feels strong arms hold her weak frame up--she was going to faint, wasn't she? She feels his scent invade her senses and when she realizes she's in Nicky's arms as he slowly leads her to Sasha's office, she is temporarily alert.

"What are you doing?" she manages to ask sharply.

Nicky helps her up the stairs and replies angrily, "I should ask you the same thing. What are you thinking? Are you thinking at all? You can't train when you're this sick."

"Let me go, Nicky."

"You're too sick to train!" he reprehends harshly. "You don't want to do this."

"I know exactly what I want to do right now, and it involves kicking someone in the crotch."

He grabs her shoulder and turns her to him. "I'm not letting your stubbornness get you injured, understand? I will drag you by your leotard sleeve up to Sasha's office if I have to."

Kaylie swallows hard. She supposes he's right; she could have fallen, injured herself. But she didn't know it'd get this bad, did she? So with a moody nod she gives him permission to carry on helping her up the stairs.

"How can I help you two?" asks a gruffy Sasha. Kaylie wants to turn back, but she wants to throw up more and that makes her stay put.

"Kaylie needs to go home. She's really sick. She almost passed out by the water fountain," testifies Nicky.

"Kaylie?" Sasha's eyebrows are raised questioningly. How can she argue? She does want to go home. Her body doesn't feel like it has anything more to give.

"I don't feel well," Kaylie murmurs. She wants to point to her throat and stomach and elaborate but her arms are limp.

She catches sight of Sasha watching her slightly alarmed, and guesses she must look even paler and sickly now than she did when she left her house that morning.

"I'll take her home," offers Nicky, and Kaylie is too weak to protest.

The ride home is a blur. All Kaylie knows is that they're in his truck, not her Mercedes, and that he's uttering some sort of reassuring words on the lines of, "all you need is some rest and cold medicine." She responds with a begging "please don't tell my parents." He doesn't question her.

They get to her house and he actually carries her in his arms to her doorstep, lowering their bodies a bit so he can ring the bell. Kaylie wants to walk but can't even open her eyes properly. Her mother answers and is shocked, but Nicky diffuses this situation by telling Mrs. Cruz that her daughter is just asleep.

Nothing bad happened. No, she's not injured like Payson. No, she's just sleepy and tired. She's not unconscious, she fell asleep on the way here. Yes, Mrs. Cruz, Kaylie is fine. I'll just take her to her room, if you let me.

And then they're going up the staircase and arrive at her room, after which he lays her on the bed and she summons enough strength to mumble a weak and low "thank you."

Kaylie feels Nicky's eyes on her after he tucks her in. "Where's your cough medicine?"

Exhaustion is dragging her deeper and deeper into sleep, but she's still half-conscious and motions towards the drawer beside her bed. She hears him open it, and a few seconds later her taste buds are jarred by the bitter cherry-flavored syrup.

"Ok. Go to sleep now. I'll wake you up in about 8 hours so you can eat something."

Kaylie settles back inside her covers, warm and safe, and a second after she relaxes completely, her mind and body finally give out and she drifts off to sleep.

**06:46PM**

"Why do we have to surprise them?" Even though she's crouched behind the oak tree behind the gym and can't see what's going on, Lauren has good hearing and knows Emily made that question.

"We won't. Not really. He'll be hiding—she'll make you hide, Nicky. Probably under the bed." And that's Payson's voice. So that means Nicky is there, too? Is there no end to this madness? Why are all three of them gossiping without bothering to invite her along? And what are they talking about? This better be the trouble she went through, crawling out of her car and towards the tree when she saw Payson and Emily walking and whispering out of the gym and into the back area. She hadn't seen Nicky then, but she can assume he joined them, right?

"I still don't know whether this is a good idea." And that's her confirmation: Nicky is there. And he sounds weary, too—Lauren wonders why. So many questions!

"We can make her realize her feelings for you," Payson assures, and then Lauren gasps because 1) they're talking about Kaylie! and 2) she must have missed the part where Payson decided to join Team Kalicky.

"We don't even know whether she does," Nicky insists.

"You've seen evidence, right?" Emily asks. Lauren still can't believe Ms. Trailer Trash is there, partaking in all this strategy planning, and she isn't. "Then you have to go with your gut."

"Fine. Then how is this going to work?" Nicky inquires, and Lauren can't stand it any longer. She emerges from behind the tree and faces them, only a few feet from her, with indignation.

"Why was I not invited to this scheming party?"

All three look as though she's the Pope and has caught them sinning, which is amusing.

"What are you doing here?" Payson, of course. Because she has more backbone and therefore has less reluctance to confront her.

"The same as you are. Trying to think up ways to get Kaylie and Nicky together."

"Your have shady reasons to want them together," Emily states darkly.

Lauren chuckles. "What do the motives matter as long as the objective is the same?" She walks to them, and continues, "correct me if I'm wrong, but I know Kaylie more than any of you do. Especially you, Romeo," she waves her hand dismissively at Nicky. "If he goes up to her room, which I'm guessing is what your little plan is all about, she won't hide you under the bed if she needs to. She'll hide him you her closet."

There is a long, tense moment of silence in which Payson, Emily, and Nicky trade mutual looks of annoyance, defeat, and finally, agreement.

Payson sighs. "We're trying to get Kaylie to see that she has feelings for Nicky."

"Which we're not sure are really there," Nicky says in irritated monotone.

"They are there, of course," Lauren assures quickly. "What's the plan so far?"

"He'll go up to her room," Emily begins, eyes moving from Payson to Nicky for confirmation, "and apologize because he's been an ass to her since they came back from Denver."

"That's an exaggeration," Nicky immediately interrupts. "I haven't been an ass to her."

"No, it was actually an understatement," Emily argues heatedly. "You called her a waste of oxygen."

"She called my routine 'craptacular.'"

"Moving on," Payson intervened, rolling her eyes slightly, "they'll talk and he'll try to charm her back to his good graces. By not offending her, I should add, now that I feel like I have to," she gives Nicky a harsh, forbidding stare. "He'll text us when he's on her roof, and we'll give him an hour to talk to her. After that, we'll go visit her. She'll hide him, we'll talk to her a bit more and see whether she opens up. If not, then we'll leave, and then he'll leave, and we'll try again another day, if it doesn't work out."

"It actually sounds like a decent plan," Lauren congratulates. "Who knew you people could plan manipulations without me?"She sighs contently as they make their way back to their cars; the other three much less thrilled, she notices. But nothing can ruin this moment for her. With all of them working towards getting these two together the possibility of success is almost certain.

**08:20PM**

Kaylie suddenly wakes up. It's dark and she feels groggy and disoriented, but remembers well what happened that morning. Holy crap it's already 8pm. She looks at her bedside clock for a few moments more, unable to believe she slept a whole day away. And then she sees a chocolate valentine still sitting on her nightstand from Payson's sleepover and munches on it thoughtfully.

What woke her up anyway? She's startled when she hears a sound from her window and is flabbergasted when she sees Nicky trying to open it. They've been fighting with no detente in sight for days now so the mere sight of him makes her want to punch something. His face would be ideal, but a pillow would also be good...

Because she doesn't want him there on the roof the whole night, she makes her way to her window and opens it, but stands blocking his way. "My dad will shoot me if he catches you in here," she states seriously.

"Uh... I'll take the bullet for you..." Nicky says in a small voice.

"He'd just charge the gun up again."

"I brought some... food." He's choosing his words carefully, which makes her narrow her eyes, but while her mind is debating his motives, her body is responding very positively to the idea of eating. She hasn't had a meal since the yogurt that morning.

Kaylie pushes her hunger to the back of her mind. There's plenty of food in her house. There is, however, only one idiot in it right now. "Why are you here? I mean, by how you've been behaving recently, God forbid you ever be nice to me."

He's indignant. "Like you've been the picture of civility to me." She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes, which fuels his irritation even further. "You know what I think?"

"That the world revolves around you?"

"No," he slurs angrily. "That you're an ungrateful brat."

"Ungrateful?" She throws her arms up with disbelief. "Ungrateful?! You owed it to me to drive me here this morning, since you gave me the flu!"

Nicky is caught off guard. "What? I gave you the flu?"

"Yes, and if I could, I'd give it right back to you, except I wouldn't do it by kissing. Can a punch transfer some germs and viruses?"

His mouth drops open slightly and he looks to the side, pondering. "I did give you the flu."

"So the boy has a functioning brain after all."

"Look," Nicky begins pointedly. "I'm sorry. You know that was the farthest thing in my mind when... you know."

Sighing resignedly, Kaylie moves to the side and lets him into her room. "Come in, but if I hear anyone knocking, hide in that closet over there," she instructs. His all-too-familiar scent is all over the air around her again, and she winces. It's great that maybe after this, they'll go back to getting along, but the ache in her chest right now is so intense she wonders whether being mad at him isn't better than having him close by.

Nicky is careful as he unwraps a sandwich and a bottle of orange juice, and she observes him, surprised by how touched she is by the fact that he remembered how much she likes these two foods. The ache is getting worse.

He looks at her standing in front of him absolutely still and is unnerved. "Oh... you said this was the combo you ate most often, but I thought that meant it was your favorite. You're probably sick of it. I can go buy something else, if you want."

"Nicky." Kaylie savors his reaction when she says his name; he almost looks surprised she remembers it, and that softens her. "I really like it, and you didn't have to. Thanks."

Nicky is blushing, but grins back and lays the food on her bed, upon which they both sit.

"It's been a long two days since we went to Denver," he comments tensely, but she can see his nervous attempt to hide his anxiety over how she'll respond.

"Yeah. Who knew your strain of the flu would only take two days to make me fall apart?" she smiles in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere in the room, and misses how much fun they had before it all went downhill during the exposition.

"It's strong, like the person it came from," he jokes weakly, looking up from her bed and catching her eye. Kaylie can't breathe.

"I think I have some napkins here," she says, grateful for the excuse to look away, and opens the same drawer he did when he got her flu medicine after dropping her off in her bed earlier that day. With embarrassment, she sees the pile of pictures of them MJ had given her ("leftovers" from their photoshoots in Denver) and that she had stacked up, which he must have seen. The top one has them in a behind-the-scenes moment, where they're leaning close and talking while blurry cameramen frame the edges. Kaylie hurries up and closes the drawer, but when she turns back to the bed with the napkins, there is a small awkwardness. He knows what she saw and she knows what he saw.

"I didn't save those or anything," she explains but she could have kicked herself for how unconvincing she sounds. "I haven't even looked at all of them."

"Okay. Then we should see them now," he suggests and she panics, but he's already reaching over to her drawer and snatching the small pile.

"Please don't," Kaylie murmurs after he flips past the first photo and takes a look at the second, in which they're actually smiling at each other.

"Are these all from the day before we got locked in?" Nicky asks with a grin, and she nods. "Wow. Who gave you these? MJ?" Kaylie nods again and shifts uncomfortably. She's full of dread he'll flip past a few more photos and see the pattern. She watches his face, holding her breath in anticipation. There's a photo of them, followed by a photo of him, smiling. Then another one of him. And another. And another. Nicky looks up and their eyes meet.

"You have a crush on me," he states solemnly and she feels like she's sinking deeper into her mattress. Of course she has a crush on him. But he's pointing it out, she knows, because back in Denver he hinted that he had a "sort of strong" attraction to her, while she had vehemently denied there was anything remotely strong on her end.

"Thank you for the food," Kaylie manages to say firmly. "I think I'll be good."

"Look at this one," Nicky suggests, apparently ignoring what she just said. He outstretches a picture he took from his wallet and she gingerly takes it. In it, she's talking to MJ and behind her, in the corner of the shot, is Nicky, and she can't quite figure out his expression. He's his usual sullen self, but there's something else. He's looking at the Kaylie in the photo with a mixture of fear and...confusion? Apprehension? Kaylie looks up from the picture, eyebrows furrowed together in puzzlement, and Nicky has exactly the same expression he has in the picture. And then she understands.

"You have a crush on me, too," Kaylie chuckles.

"But we already knew," he counters somewhat defensively.

"We'll be fine, Nicky," she assures him easily. "I told you we were going to be good friends. You already did all of this for me." Kaylie grabs a sandwich, and he starts to open the orange juice. Something gives her the instantly regrettable idea of kissing him on the cheek, but as she leans forward to do it, he moves his head to the side to grab some cups and she accidentally misses.

The rush that courses through her body is so strong, her heart is galloping. The feeling of her lips against his is familiar, but intoxicating. When he actually begins to kiss her, she feels as though she's dissolving.

It's too much, and she breaks it off, though one hand is on his collar and his own hand is on her thigh.

"Nicky." She doesn't know what else to say. Part of her wants to tell him to stop and leave, but for the other part, that's the last thing he should do.

"Then why did you start it?" Nicky asks with a tinge of irritation.

Kaylie understands his anger but doesn't like his tone, and is indignant. "I didn't mean to, I was aiming for the cheek!"

He grunts with dissatisfaction and removes his hand from her thigh to pick up the bottle of juice. She watches him take a large sip, and reaches for the sandwich.

"And why do you taste like chocolate?" he asks in a low voice still full of distrust. This is funny to Kaylie and she wants to smile but feels the tension and doesn't say anything. The flavors are so good they distract her from the kiss she had been sharing with Nicky.

"Thanks again. I was starving," Kaylie says gleefully, though still nervous. Nicky is watching her seriously, and gradually her hunger is abated. She can't finish the whole thing so she gives the remaining half to him. "How was the rest of the day at the Rock?"

"It was good," Nicky replies simply, and she can see he's still weary and trying to move on from the kiss that occurred only a few moments ago. "I thought about you when I saw Lauren attempt a double back."

Kaylie wants to tease him, since he left himself wide open like that. "You thought about me huh?"

He stops mid-chew. "If you wanna go that route, I can go back to the pictures you saved up." Containing a giggle that threatens to erupt, Kaylie slaps his arm playfully. "Come on. You have a picture of you staring at me."

"Ok. I'll give you that," Nicky agrees, and adds with a smile, "but I'll never believe you were aiming for the cheek two minutes ago."

Kaylie feigns shock. "I'm insulted! Why would I kiss you on purpose?"

Before she can elaborate any more sarcastic quips, he's leaned in, cheek slightly turned so it's in front of her, and his face is a mere inch from hers. Her breath catches in her throat and she feels the temperature in the room rise.

"You can't miss now." There's a barely-there hint that he's joking, but the hopefulness in his voice is heartbreaking.

"The problem is," Kaylie mumbles, because she can't make her voice any stronger, "that I really want to miss." They are looking into each other's eyes... and the room continues to get warmer.

Until they hear a knock, and a voice that sounds too much like Lauren's asking impatiently for Kaylie to open the door.

"We know you're not sleeping. They told me you left the Rock at like, noon or something," she hears Payson say. Kaylie is still so surprised only then does she snatch her mind back to the fact that Nicky's face is an inch from hers and oh my God, the girls are standing outside her door!

Simultaneously they part as though a gunshot has gone off and she points to the closet urgently, to which he nods, but he looks very, very angry and frustrated. She doesn't have time to focus on that, however. "Yes, I'm awake. I'll be right there," Kaylie calls out and quickly attempts to hide all evidence that she had someone in the room with her. She hides his jacket and their pictures, and only leaves the food on display, figuring they'll deduce her mother served her those.

Kaylie stands in front of her door and takes a deep breath.

"Come on, Kaylie," complains Lauren. "Some people actually did things today besides sleep."

She opens the door and isn't surprised when she sees Emily there, too. "Hi guys. Come in."

"You still look like crap," Lauren states, but behind her, both Emily and Payson are shaking their heads smilingly to deny the claim.

"How was today?" Kaylie asks, and hopes the girls don't notice her voice has risen an octave.

"The Rock was fine," Lauren answers, flopping down on her bed lazily. "Same crap, different day."

"How was class, Payson?" Kaylie continues, doing her best to hide all nervousness from her voice, but in the back of her mind the fact that Nicky is hiding in her closet is still making her shake a little.

"Class was fine. I got an A on my first pop quiz," declares Payson with one of those bright smiles of hers that instantly makes Kaylie wonder for the briefest of seconds whether Nicky likes Payson's smiles more than he likes hers. She quickly pushes the thought away though.

"Right. Why would we think you'd be any less great in high school than you were in gymnastics?"

"Emily was still sulking because of pizza boy," reveals Lauren with a smirk.

"I wasn't sulking," Emily argues. "I was... introverted. Well, more than my usual."

All four girls trade smiles, and then Lauren does the inevitable and brings up the very subject Kaylie fears.

"Funny. Nicky asked to leave early today, did you know?"

"Oh. Really." Keep your cool, Kaylie.

"Yeah. And he brought you home earlier, didn't he?" Lauren presses on.

"You could have let us know, we'd have given you a ride," adds Emily.

Kaylie's mind races. "I...thought about that. But Nicky was already there." She can't help stealing a quick glance at the closet. "And he offered first."

"Yes, I'm sure that's why you accepted his offer to drive you home," Lauren snippets and Kaylie has to control simultaneous urges to look at Payson's reaction and to tape Lauren's mouth shut. "Not because you two have the hots for one another."

She summons the acting skills she usually brings up only in competitions, to lie convincingly. "Are you high on something? He and I couldn't hate each other more if we tried."

"I'm sure that's a cover for deep attraction," says Lauren knowingly, and slightly... nervously? Kaylie darts her eyes quickly to Payson beside her, and finds that she's watching Lauren with a frown. Oh my God—does this mean she's considering the possibility that she and Nicky are indeed crossing the line? Even after she assured her at the sleepover that they would never? "And anyway, since you came back from Denver I've been noticing things are heating up."

"Lauren, stop." It's Payson, advancing to her defense. "This is not... the right way to go about this." It's Kaylie's time to frown. She doesn't really understand the wording on this sentence; what it's referring to. "We can talk about this later. With... planning." Kaylie's frown deepens, but she's immediately distracted by Payson's next question. "How are you feeling?" Kaylie is relieved the conversation is back under her control.

"Much better. But I'm still tired and these meds I'm taking might as well be horse tranquilizer—they really knock me out." Hoping they'll catch her subtle message to leave, Kaylie lays back on her bed and fakes a small yawn. The girls seem to understand, and begin to pick up their belongings.

"I hope you get better," Emily says sincerely.

"Yes; we'll try to ignore the fact you got sick on a Saturday—how convenient," snips Lauren, and hugs Kaylie.

"If you need anything, call us," instructs Payson firmly, and she too hugs Kaylie and leaves the room.

"Take care." Nodding, Emily exits the room and Kaylie can hear Payson and Lauren calling out for her to hurry up. "I'm going! Jeez..."

Ronnie Cruz, her mother, then appears at her door, with the sort of concern stamped across her features that makes Kaylie think she's been worried about her all day.

"Kaylie," her mother breathes, "how are you feeling, honey?"

"I'm all better now," Kaylie replies as firmly as she can, the sooner to convince her. "All I needed was some rest. I was really tired."

"Do you want some dinner? I prepared something for you."

"No, I've... already eaten," Kaylie stammers when her mother's eyes wander into her room and catch sight of the sandwich on her nightstand. "The girls brought me that," she explains quickly.

"I didn't see them with any food..."

"Oh. That's because it was in Payson's backpack." She's an awesome liar. Which would usually be a cause for shame, but right now she almost wants to gloat: her mother is convinced.

"Okay. Well, let me know if you need anything."

"Sure thing, mom."

Kaylie closes the door and locks it, her shoulders sagging with relief. She makes her way to the closet and trades a significant look with Nicky.

"Can you see the bullets I sweat out?" she comments dryly.

Nicky seems hugely disappointed, but although Kaylie can't pin down why, she decides this isn't the time to interrogate him. She's tired and wants to go back to sleep, and wonders if exhaustion isn't already impairing her thinking.

They walk to her window, but he turns to her suddenly, as though he's about to tell her something she suspects is important. Abruptly, they hear the door begin to open, and as though time has stretched out infinitely in front of her, Kaylie begins to see everything unfold in front of her very, very slowly.

The door is opening. Nicky is beside her, in front of the window. Her hand is clutching his sleeve—why, again?—and the door is opening. It's Payson's voice. She's whispering, "...left already." Kaylie wonders who's left already. Her mother was the only one there that she knows of. But now she's going to know about Nicky. And the door is opening. Kaylie is a backstabbing slut, just like Lauren, and now Payson is going to know. And the door is opening. Kaylie can't say anything about Lauren. She knowingly has crossed the line with Nicky, and now everyone will know what a hypocrite she is. And the door is opening. Payson will hate her. Lauren will laugh at her derisively, and then she'll hate her, too. The gym will mock her, because once again her personal life is on the spotlight instead of her gymnastics. And the door is opening. Nicky doesn't even like her—she'll always be second best. Payson will always get the gold, and she'll always be in second place, and that's the order of things, isn't it?

"Kaylie, I forgot my keys," Payson is announcing.

And the door opens.

"This isn't what it looks like." Kaylie's words are rushing through her mind, and galloping out of her tongue with the weight of desperation and madness. "I don't like him. I never liked him. He's just a distraction. You're my best friend, and I love you. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry this happened. I'm so sorry I acted like Lauren. He doesn't mean anything. You're my best friend, and I'm so sorry, so sorry. None of it with him meant anything. I'm so sorry."

Payson, Emily, and Lauren aren't looking at her. Not really. They may have looked at her, but their eyes are set behind her, to a place Kaylie won't turn to look at. To the boy she can't face now, because she said he isn't important and never meant anything to her. Kaylie just wants Payson to hug her, and tell her she's not like Lauren and they will always be friends. She wants the golden girl to tell the silver girl that what she did doesn't matter, and that she'll forget Nicky and how much she loves him right now.

"Payson," Kaylie says.

"Nicky," Payson says. Kaylie finally turns around, but Nicky is already walking across her lawn and into the darkness through which, for the first time, she doesn't wish she could see.

* * *

I'll try to update sooner than I've doing lately. Please review and let me know your thoughts! =)


	4. Chapter 4: Day Three

A/N: Hey everyone; I moved so I didn't have Internet for a while. I'm really sorry about the wait. I was going to post this as two chapters but decided this story's structure is convoluted enough. =D I'm grateful for all the reviews and really wasn't expecting so many story/author alerts on my first fanfic! All your criticisms make me a better writer and I promise I'll try to get better with each story. Enjoy!

**One Week, Day Three**

Kaylie doesn't know how long it takes for her to wake up because of the song blasting through the room, but she does and when she slowly opens her eyes and blinks them a few times, she realizes the sun's early rays are already leaking through the gaps between the curtains, announcing the arrival of dawn. And, now that she thinks about it, of the day of the exposition.

The increasingly annoying song plays another loop and she reaches over her bed and over a warm lump beside her, and snatches a cellphone from the bedstand. Sitting up and cradling the cellphone she realizes that...it isn't really hers...

And then the events of the night before become fresh in her mind again and she releases a small gasp, staring at the "lump" beside her—Nicky.

Did they really just sleep in the same bed? Side by side? Together?

She should be more shocked, she knows. Her surprise comes more from forgetting he was there, rather than the fact that he's there, and that's alarming.

Kaylie allows her gaze to settle on the reposing Nicky, since she's always wanted to stare at his handsome face but of course, gawking is not something Kaylie Cruz does.

Nicky's jaw is strong. When she leans in just a bit to get a better look, she notices the slight facial hair that's just short enough to barely be there, yet colors the lower half of his face a faint green.

His hair is a mess. Really. He has hair that in length, rivals Carter's, but it has a propensity to stick up rather than fall around his face in curls. Maybe Nicky was right and Carter's hair belongs to a woman from the '70s. She guesses her brain is still shut down, because she doesn't think twice before gently touching his hair. She won't try to tame it, of course. But she wants to know what it feels like, and smiles because it's soft and she thought it'd have prickled her.

One of his arms is wrapped around the pillow upon which his head rests, and her eyes turn to examine it instead. His bicep looks hard and imposing even when he's not flexing it. Gingerly, she pokes the muscle with her index finger, then relaxes and rests a hand on it because it's so warm.

She uses her other hand to raise the cellphone to sight. Its faint light is telling her that it's 6 in the morning; she's used to waking up at 8, but isn't surprised Nicky would set his alarm to such an ungodly hour. He does looks like the kind of person who trains even when the gym isn't open, maybe pulling an Emily and venturing over to playgrounds? Kaylie lays down on the bed again, mulling over when she should start getting ready for the day. The actual exposition begins at 2pm, with warm-ups at noon. And MJ said they had two interviews to finish during warm-up, which in this case meant...

"What time is it?"

"Six," she responds automatically and then widens her eyes, her entire body stiff.

He yawns and sits up, looking down at her slightly horrified figure. "Morning jog?"

Kaylie is slightly astounded at his offer. "If that's your first thought, I just _know_ you're not fully awake yet."

"I'm awake. My eyes are open," he argues and flashes her a lazy, content smile.

Kaylie ignores the fluttering in her stomach. "Why are you in my bed?"

Still smiling, he opens his mouth to reply but then shuts it abruptly as his eyes roam around the room. The fact they're avoiding her tells Kaylie he finally remembered.

She wants these clouds of awkwardness to clear, because she can't stand the tension that creeps between them when everything is going well but then something happens to remind them that they're tip-toeing a dangerous line.

Nicky finally looks at her nervously, but she smiles reassuringly and he seems relieved. "We should have built one of those walls of pillows to separate your half of the bed from mine," Nicky suggests lightly. "Look at this. I have less than a quarter of the bed. I wonder why I didn't fall over!"

Kaylie likes it that it's humorous again, not uncomfortable, and she can let her laughter ease the pain in her chest. "Are you out of your mind? Look at this," she says with her best accusing glare, pointing to the blanket enveloping them. "You hogged more than half of it. It's all lumped over on your side."

"No it's...oh. Yes, it is..." Nicky agrees with embarrassed shock, then exchanges a smile with her. "What do you do in your mornings?"

"Sleep."

"Well when do you run?"

"At eight, when I wake up. Not at six, when I'm still R.E.."

"I don't want to throw you off your rhythm, but do you wanna get a few miles in now? With me?"

"How did you guess the first thing I like to do in a freezing morning, is run?"

Laughing, he rubs his eyes and walks to their window, raising the curtains and allowing sunlight to effectively wake them both up completely. "Call me psychic. I know, for an example, that right now you want nothing more than to tell me how great I am, and that Nicky Russo is truly a supreme being."

He looks at her again, and she's silent, because she's afraid she'll say exactly what he suggested, but she'll mean it. Instead, she forces her familiar easy sarcasm to push away her nervousness. "Wow, Russo. It's a gift."

* * *

Nicky wonders why he's not more panicky or fidgety right now. He spent the night in Kaylie's room, in her bed with her, and now they're getting breakfast on said bed and she's throwing a strawberry at his face because he attempted to "read her mind" again and told her she's feeling sorry she snores and kicks when she sleeps.

(Which is not true, by the way. He's a light sleeper and would've woken up in a second if she were either one of those things.)

It feels too normal to be with her like this. With any other girl he'd probably have been a nervous mess, utilizing his gymnastic pride to cover up his jitters. Right now, however, they're both laughing as she smears whipped cream on his cheek to "go with the strawberry" and nothing feels out of the ordinary.

After they're done eating he returns to his room to get ready for their run and five minutes later, they're stretching outside, inhaling the harsh early morning air and watching their breaths leave their bodies in long smoky puffs.

They talk occasionally during their run, but it feels like a race, so he's focused. She's a great runner and five miles later he's slowing down and pacing himself while she shows no sign of doing the same.

Finally, they pass by a park for a breather, and stop at a bridge built over a small pond. Kaylie's cheeks are flushed and her hair isn't perfectly slicked back as it was before, and there's a small voice inside his head telling him he shouldn't be noticing these things. They hear her phone vibrate; when she snatches it from her pocket he catches a brief glimpse of Carter's picture and remembers that they talked about him—of how it began with the rush of excitement and innocence, and ended with her heart and dignity minced and forgotten. She told him she still had some remnants of feelings for him, but that was all; a second later they were on to a different topic. Nicky's mind is brought back to what Kaylie is saying at the moment as she carries on as though her cellphone never left her pocket, and he decides he'll forget it too.

He tells her he's not used to having company when he runs in the morning. She tells him snarkily that she wonders _why_ he doesn't have company. It's so cold this early that she can't feel her ears or nose and even her eyebrows don't want to move. Then she smiles and adds that she just likes to complain; he's fun and makes it worth it to freeze her extremities off. Nicky feels like something is filling his chest and stomach, like cold air, but it feels good and he doesn't want it to go away.

He accidentally brushes his hand by Kaylie's and is startled by how cold she is. He apologizes for taking her out on a run with this weather, and envelops both her hands in his.

"You're hot," she chuckles, aware of the other meaning and simultaneously making fun of it.

The mixture of happiness, excitement, and something else he can't quite pin down is swirling wildly in him. Kaylie's eyes are really bright and lively, and her laughter is contagious. He's afraid he's staring too much.

And it's not that he hasn't noticed that she's a beautiful girl. At the Rock, her looks are considered one of those undebatable facts of the universe: the Earth is round, the Pope is Catholic, and Kaylie Cruz is hot. But now it seems his body is processing this information as well, not just his mind, and he feels slightly uncomfortable, looking directly into her eyes when he really wants to look away.

She's talking about the other girls at the Rock and how different it is to be away from them, and he notices that she mentioned Payson's name, but somehow he can't pay any heed to what she's saying. His mind is empty, except for a voice that keeps murmuring, _Kaylie, Kaylie Kaylie, Kaylie, Kaylie_. The memory of her laugh when she reached into the bowl of whipped cream just before spreading a handful of it on his face flashes quickly in his brain, and before his mind can register what he's doing, he's leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

How long did it last before he backed away with dread, avoiding her eyes and embarrassed beyond repair? Nicky swallows hard because if things between them are forever ruined it's his fault he couldn't maintain his restraint. Their friendship is crumbling down with each passing of silent seconds in which he can't stand to be so close to her, and can't stand the idea that he won't have anyone to talk to and laugh with the next day. This feels worse than being in second place at Nationals.

"Well, _that_ was awful," he hears her say, and looks up only to see her wide, comforting smile, telling him it's okay—they're still normal. Just like that, Kaylie has fixed it.

"What medal would you give it?" he continues, because at least she's being broadly sarcastic so he knows it wasn't that bad. He's an ok kisser, right?

"A medal? You'd be lucky to be in 4th."

"Well, you weren't so good yourself. I was expecting the kind of kissing skills that could win a national competition, but..."

"But...?"

"It was just meh."

She laughs. "Meh?" They're still really close. Why aren't they stepping away from each other?

"Don't get me wrong; a 'meh' kiss isn't bad," he explains, but now neither of them can stop laughing. "It just isn't impressive." Nicky is aware now of how he feels like he's being pulled towards her, but they're laughing, so is this entire moment another joke they'll laugh at?

"I can be impressive." She's still laughing when she pulls him down and kisses him, and through the deafening thundering of his heart and the millions of busy, excited thoughts that dash across each corner of his mind and cause curiously strong flutterings in his stomach, he's aware that somehow, this doesn't feel like a joke. He knows he won't want to laugh about this afterwards. He'll want to do it again, and again, and again...

_I always feel like_

_Somebody's watching me_

_And I have no privacy_

Kaylie actually fishes his phone from his jacket pocket and answers it for him, but Nicky is very nervous--he can't see her expression, so he can't tell whether she thought this kiss was for jest or it meant something. Heck, he doesn't know what it meant; maybe she can enlighten him.

He suddenly remembers his kiss with Payson, and actually takes a sobering step back, and away from Kaylie. No, this wasn't a joke. He likes Payson, not Kaylie. In his mind, Payson was always the ideal model for the perfect girl, and yet here he is, resisting Kaylie's crushingly strong gravity. He liked the kiss—no, he really, really liked the kiss. So what does that mean? If he used to spend time with Kaylie to avoid thinking about Payson's rejection, what does it mean that he now has to bring up memories of Payson's awe-inspiring routines to keep him from kissing Kaylie again?

Time rushes back, and he watches Kaylie talk into his phone. He can hear the low, unintelligible hum from the other end, and convinces himself he looked at Kaylie's lips because he was looking at the cellphone. Not because he just kissed them.

"We're just jogging. We'll be in the hotel in about an hour," Kaylie is saying. She doesn't seem much affected at all. Maybe he shouldn't be. "On the intersection of Main Street and...yes, right at that park. No, we can run back. Okay." Kaylie shuts the phone and offers him a resigned shrug. "Another preparation for yet another interview. Try to contain your enthusiasm."

Nicky can't think of a playful comment. He can't think about anything. Why isn't she affected? Why is his composure disintegrating and all she does is shrug?

"We have to run back," she continues. "MJ offered to send a car for us, but," Kaylie pauses and smiles mischievously, "I want to kick your ass again, racing you back to the hotel."

_Pull yourself together, idiot._ He thinks of the upcoming exposition, which instills in him the old jolt of competitiveness that's always managed to bury his feelings and vulnerability beneath ambition and passion for the sport. Yes, this is better. "Kaylie, we got here at the same time. You hardly kicked my ass."

"True. There isn't much there to kick," she chuckles, and he forces out a laugh. "Well, I did slow down so you could keep up."

Nicky feigns annoyance, containing the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Much better. "You're...a show-off."

She puffs up her chest and scowls, imitating him. "You're...slow." They trade smiles but he coughs a second later. "You ok?"

"I'm fine. Just got better from the flu." She frowns but he hears her burst out laughing when abruptly he takes off running, calling out "try to keep up, Cruz!" behind him.

* * *

He didn't mean to do it, Kaylie tells herself, thinking about her newfound closeness with Nicky for the first time since arriving in Denver—and questioning whether she's betraying Payson. She's aware that Payson rejected Nicky, but they like each other so perhaps that didn't mean anything? She sighs.

No, he definitely didn't mean to kiss her. Maybe if she was Payson, but she isn't, and will never be. She's had to defend the title of National Champion ever since she won it, because it implies she's better than Payson, and most of the time, even Kaylie has to pause and wonder how many people laugh when faced with the statement: Kaylie Cruz is better than Payson Keeler. The medal was so heavy.

She's not Payson. Therefore, the only possible explanation for Nicky's action was that he let his attraction to her get the better of him and followed an impulse. There was nothing behind the kiss except mere attraction, which was why she once again made a joke of it, like they make jokes of every romantic moment they ever share. It's a pattern she recognized a while ago: she and Nicky are like a rubber band, and they keep stretching their relationship with actions fit to be performed by couples, not friends. And then the rubber band relaxes back to normal when they turn their actions and feelings into jokes.

She always thinks the rubber band is going to break. She thought it was going to break when they trained together in the gym, and allowed their looks to linger on each other for a few seconds too many. She thought it was going to break when they slept on the same bed. And now this--a full-on five second kiss. And it hasn't broken yet. What will it take?

She watches him take a step back, horror stamping his features, while she listens to MJ's harsh accent dispense the instructions for the day. _He's thinking about Payson..._

Slightly stung, she composes herself and smiles, thankful he's looking away so she has time to close her eyes for a brief moment. "We're just jogging. We'll be in the hotel in about an hour."

* * *

Nicky will always remember the beginning of the end. The moments leading up to the exposition, when he first observed that something was off with Kaylie, and then the actual exposition, taking place where he could look at Payson and Kaylie side by side, and realize the choice has already been made, but it's wrong.

They ran 3 miles in 25 minutes, which he thought was great--running with a partner did improve the outcomes after all--and then decided to walk the remaining two back to the hotel. During that time he managed to file away his kiss with Kaylie deep inside the corner in his mind farthest from his current thoughts. They were walking farther apart, and he could sense some tension, but figured it'd normal after sharing a kiss. Somehow, their talk led them to what he could tell was a sensitive subject for both.

"Payson was always the best," Kaylie said, and he saw that she had a pensive, reluctant manner, as though she was saying everything in her head once before saying it out loud. "Ten years of getting silver medals. I always thought that was the order of things."

"And then you won Nationals and she got hurt," he completed forlornly, pondering on how the best gymnast he'd ever seen lost the medal, and then lost her career as well. At that moment, he had noticed Kaylie's eyes flicker to him and turn a shade darker, but he hadn't given much through to that.

"I didn't _think_ I was going to win. Payson and Kelly Parker were almost tied, and I was second. Parker got a great score on her last exercise, and if Payson did hers perfectly, she'd beat her, even if by a small margin. I still had one exercise, and Payson was going to do her bars. And then..." Kaylie hesitated. They were close to the hotel; he recognized the shops. "And then I did my exercise, and thought, 'this is it. Payson will be perfect on bars, like always, but at least...at least I beat Kelly Parker.'"

"So you would have won anyway."

"What do you mean?"

Nicky noticed her entire body becoming stiffer, and later, as they're driving back to Boulder and he's unwilling to believe they can't be fixed, he recognizes Kaylie's reaction as the first red flag. "Payson and Kelly Parker were tied, and you beat Kelly Parker. So you would have won anyway, even without Payson's injury."

Kaylie looked at him with an odd, unsettling expression. As though he had said something he wasn't supposed to. He decided to change the subject, but keep it gymnastics-related. "You know, I had to go on the horse after that guy that ended up winning gold. I'm normally unfazed. But that was bad. I got stressed out."

Kaylie let out an uneasy laugh. "I used to be nervous if I had to go up after Payson. She sets standards I don't think I could meet. I never met them, anyway."

"I recognize an inferiority complex when I see one," Nicky said quietly.

She shrugged, a little too carelessly for her. "I wouldn't want to be the one after Payson in anything." Nicky stopped.

"What?"

She turned to him, eyes and expression unreadable but then MJ approached them. "Good morning, you two. Hope you enjoyed your exercise." Her accent made everything sound more formal. "Go get ready for your pre-warm-ups interviews. Be ready in 30 minutes, and meet me in the conference room."

* * *

To the soundtrack of MJ's melodic accent, Kaylie has been counting the steps towards the hotel, her heart rate steadily increasing. She feels as though she's walking to her death, and can feel herself perspiring underneath her thick sports attire.

Not that Nicky noticed. He was obviously still very perturbed by their kiss, which she understands. He's probably just glad she didn't take it the wrong way—they're supposed to be friends, and that's all.

She calculates twenty steps from her floor's elevator to her room, and begins the countdown, her mind flooded with guilt. She betrayed Payson; yes she did. There's no denying it. Caught up in the light-hearted moment immediately following his kiss, she forgot all about her problems in Boulder, and all about her promises to herself, and followed her own impulse. Until that stupid ringtone sounded in the inch between them, and reality dragged her out from her daydream.

Fifteen steps left. And fifteen minutes to take a shower and be all made-up for the cameras.

She'll just try her best to push these feelings and thoughts aside. She's a great actress, and can lie her way out of anything.

Ten steps left. Why is she slowing down? Because you don't want to step into your room, and glance at that picture on your nightstand of you, Payson, Lauren, and Emily, that's why.

Five steps left. She thinks about Nicky, and about the butterflies. And about how she's figured out how his mind works, and how much she enjoys being able to tell what he's thinking by reading his body language.

Then she's standing in front of her door and she realizes she really, really wants to cry, but her eyes are dry. What does that mean?

"Kaylie." It's Nicky. She turns, and he still looks apprehensive. She shouldn't have told him about her—what did he call it?—inferiority complex. It's Payson, you idiot, she wants to say. The whole gym is inferior.

"Our interview is in twenty minutes," Kaylie reminds him unnecessarily.

"What did you mean by that whole not-wanting-to-be-after-Payson thing? Were you talking just about gymnastics? Or..." he doesn't finish his sentence, and Kaylie knows it's because he can't believe she thought he'd even _look_ at her as a replacement for Payson.

"Just gymnastics, Nicky," she assures with a small smile. "Now go get ready. That hair is hard to tame and you might need more time."

Grinning, Nicky enters his room, and shuts the door. Only then does Kaylie do the same.

* * *

Unblinkingly, he watches Kaylie's floor routine and is breathless, unaware of the other athletes, the cheering—indeed, unaware of time and space. Was she this good at Nationals? Every landing seems to coincide with a heartbeat of his and for the first time since he met Kaylie, Nicky doesn't doubt her--not her talent, not her skill, not her worthiness of that gold medal that had seemed so out of place on her chest at the Nationals podium. He's entranced, and it takes a nudge on his shoulder to snap him out of it.

"Payson," he breathes with surprise, his entire body rigid with awkwardness. She smiles at him, then sets her blue-eyed gaze on Kaylie.

"How is she doing?"

"She's...perfect. Really, really great," he replies without thinking. He wants to watch the rest of Kaylie's routine, but he's wanted to talk to Payson for a very long time, and this is his chance.

Should he tell her about the kiss? No, Kaylie probably wouldn't want to. Not that that kiss mattered much to her, apparently. During the interviews, rehearsing his answers in his mind was all he could do to stop himself from thinking about Kaylie, while she was her usual bubbly, carefree self. Then, warm-ups went by without a hitch for her, while he wondered why she was avoiding him. Or was she? Maybe she was just concentrated on training. So he did the same, and so far, his performance has been excellent.

Nicky brings his attention back to the girl standing in front of him and asks the question he's always wanted to. "How's the high school boyfriend?" Payson is quiet for a second. She doesn't seem mad, or irritated, or happy--she's just very calm.

"Do you really care, Nicky?" she asks, almost emotionless.

"Well...the day I asked the first time, on Valentine's Day, I really did."

"How about today? Are you asking me because you care, or because you used to and you made a mental note for next time you saw me?" It's his turn to take a moment to think about her question, because he's not sure. "Do we really know each other?"

"Yes. Yes, we do. I've watched you for so long, and we even...you know, outside your hotel room," he insists. It felt odd to be defending his feelings.

"Really? Because I think all we did was watch each other over our years of training at the Rock, and we saw in the other who we wanted to be." Nicky swallows hard. Why is this making sense? She's the reason he was turning away Kaylie, and now... "I think you need someone, who'll...show you who you really are."

"Why did you come here? Why are you telling me this?"

She chuckles, shaking her head as though not quite believing what she's about to say. "I have a friend from my school who installed this app on my phone... I get alerts when any news media reports anything Rock-related. You know, a way to keep up with what's happening. So I saw this," she says, and raises a cellphone to his gaze. Nicky's entire body freezes at the sight, and his heart might as well have stopped. "I know you and Kaylie, and know how things are."

"Are you still trying to get rid of me?"

"Nicky..." he feels Payson's hand on his cheek, and thinks about how Kaylie's hand felt when it rested on the same place. "I think that if you really think about it, you'll see that you don't care anymore what I'm trying to do."

Payson is looking into his eyes with understanding and he realized that at that moment he's feeling all sorts of peaceful. There is no turmoil in his stomach and chest, no battling questions in his mind. He's looking at Payson and seeing a friend, and someone who no longer holds his fascination. It reminds him of when he was seven years old and he thought he wanted to be a mathematician. Gymnastics was too hard but he was good at math and this made him think his life would be easier if he stuck with what came more naturally to him, what was familiar to him, instead of something that constantly challenged him and made him feel in above his head, like gymnastics.

"You're my math, Payson." It comes out as a barely audible murmur, like how he heard Kaylie's voice when she asked him what he was doing in her bed. "Kaylie is my gymnastics."

Payson doesn't quite understand that, but smiles warmly. "Friends?"

"Friends."

* * *

Kaylie's entire body is on fire. Her routine is very high rated in difficulty, and she's feeling it in her muscles, skin, and bones.

Control your breathing. Turn just right. Leap. Land. Raise your arms. Move your leg two inches. Leap. Land. Remember the hip.

Her heart is hammering away in her chest and she wants to get this over with. When she's competing, time always seems shorter and longer than it really is.

Another jump. Double Arabian. Landed it. Great. Two more maneuvers. Last jump. Land. Breathe. Raise your arms. The applause and cheering manage to drown out the sound of her galloping heart.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Nicky and Payson, and she has her hand on his cheek, but that's a fleeting thought because her attention is again fully on the judging panel before her. How did she do? She can't remember any mistakes, but her arm placements might have been off in two jumps. She turns her body to salute the other half of the judges' table and this is when she stops paying attention to how her scores will turn out. Payson says something to Nicky, he smiles and says something back, and then she kisses him on the cheek. But very close to the mouth--is it just her angle?

The expected torrent of guilty thoughts invades her mind once again, but this time she isn't worried about having backstabbed Payson by kissing Nicky. She's... reliving their kiss, and noticing how tainted this memory is now that she's seeing Nicky receiving a kiss from the girl he actually likes. This particular brand of jealousy is foreign to her; even with Carter and Lauren, her feelings stemmed from a sense of entitlement—Carter was hers, not Lauren's. But now, as though she had been slapped, she's confronted with a harsher truth: Nicky is Payson's, not hers. Oh my God.

Oh my God; she likes the guy Payson likes, knowing full well he likes her back and she's just the second-best. It's a thought that sucks away part of the joy she's having from completing a great routine, and fills her with a lonely, dejected mix of emotions she hides well underneath a peppy smile. Kaylie drops her arms and walks off the mat with her heart in her stomach.

Her scores are the best of the night and it cheers her up somewhat, even though there's a melancholic weight on her chest she's unable to shake off. She takes a quick shower, and then a second to examine herself on the mirror, wondering if Nicky will tell Payson about their kiss, and whether she'll lose all of her closest friends. The fear that she'll never have what she wants is outweighed by another fear—that maybe she always wants the wrong things and she'll end up alone.

Afterwards, Kaylie is being congratulated by fellow gymnasts and mentally bracing herself for the horde of reporters circling her, when she feels herself gently pulled by the arm. Turning, she's greeted by the sight of a wide-smiled Carter.

"You were awesome, Kaylie."

"Thanks," she says appreciatively. She briefly wonders whether Carter was the only one watching her routine, seeing as how Lauren was performing some vaults, Emily was at the beam, and Payson and Nicky..._don't think about it, Kaylie_.

"How has your stay in Denver been?"

* * *

Nicky decides to search for Kaylie, kicking himself because he missed the last half of her routine talking to Payson. It was a great talk and one that illuminated much for him on his current situation. He feels as though the burden of his previous dilemma has been lifted from his body and he can breathe again—Kaylie is it. She's the girl.

So now he needs to see her, because...because he just needs her, that's all. That kiss changed things, and she needs to know—perhaps she'll want to take this further, and it only takes 20 minutes to drive from Denver to Boulder.

He's able to infiltrate the wall of reporters and media staff and is mildly taken aback when he sees her talking to Carter, who Nicky didn't bother to think of when he was pondering how many people his kiss with Kaylie would affect. Nicky steps closer, because neither of them can see him among the other athletes giving interviews and posing for pictures.

"How has your stay in Denver been?"

"Uh...disappointing. Hasn't been much fun, just work and train." Nicky is confused. All they did was have fun.

"Well, Russo came here with you."

"No need to be jealous, Carter. Nothing is going on." Nicky doesn't know why her response unsettles him since of course, he and Kaylie aren't anything right now. "It's hard to trust anyone after what you put me through though." Now he's miffed. So she doesn't trust him either is what she's implying. Why is she saying this? Why does she sound so honest?

"We love each other Kaylie. I can't always be telling you how sorry I am when you know it all already. I know you love me too," Carter says firmly, and a panicky thought invades Nicky's mind. She said she still liked him. That's why she was so unfazed by their kiss—it really didn't matter to her. He's overtaken by a strong urge to run away and never see her again, but stays put. Maybe he can change her mind. He can prove to her that he's better than Carter. All he needs is a chance.

"Carter, this isn't the time or the place. All you need to know is that because of you and my mother, I've realized love only makes you weaker, and I'd never allow myself to be open to hurt like that ever again." Nicky turns on his heel and quietly walks away. He bumps into MJ, who convinces him to give an interview on his surprise win over the national champion. All Nicky does is nod, and numbly follows her to the tables set up for the press conferences and interviews.

* * *

Kaylie can't erase from her mind the image of Payson's hand on Nicky's cheek, and avoids Nicky for the rest of the night. She's sure he's doing the same to her because he makes it so obvious. They had to sit beside each other for a small press conference afterwards (nothing like the ones post-Nationals thank God), and he was squirming in his seat the whole time through, till she angrily decided to alleviate their tension by moving her chair farther from his. She could understand why he was acting as though she were a leper—he liked Payson but he had kissed _her_. His guilty conscience was still hassling him.

It's nighttime already and the photo shoots and press interviews took longer this time because, as MJ explained, Sasha prohibited any press from setting foot inside the Rock again, so now they had to get all the work done tonight. She briefly questioned, without answers, why, exactly, everyone insisted on having her and Nicky always together, and why they were frequently asked whether they really were an item. She shrugs these questions away now.

By the time they concluded their sixth feature for sports magazines and newspaper sections, almost everyone had left, except for a small group of media staffers and writers, and three or four athletes--a few of the medalists. _When does this club close?_

She remembers she told her parents she wanted to go back to Boulder with them, but then had told them she'd make sure with MJ, but had forgotten to provide an update to either her parents or MJ. Oh well. She'll hitch a ride with whoever is available.

Kaylie was waiting for MJ to wrap it all up and give her the okay to pick up her bags from the locker room, when she saw Nicky forlornly standing by the pommel horse. As though he sensed her gaze on him, he turned to face her and neither of them averted their eyes. He walked towards her and stood a foot from her, but neither betrayed any emotion, even though Kaylie wanted to slap him, punch him, kiss him again--but mostly, she just wanted to ask him whether her eyes had been right, and he had just remembered a few hours ago that he liked Payson and not her. They see MJ pointing to them, talking on the phone and to a staff member simultaneously, and remain silent. She watches more people leave, and a couple of lights are turned off.

A door creak sounds beside her and before she can react, she's been pulled inside the janitor's room she had so casually been leaning back beside.

"Nicky! What the hell!"

"Are you back with Carter or something?" His question should be offensive enough, but his tone mocks her and she can tell it's meant to make her feel stupid.

"What's in it to you, dumbass? It doesn't concern you."

"Oh, is that how we're playing it?"

"Playing it? What are you? Five?"

"Boy, to think I rated your maturity level beyond a sixth grader's."

"I'm sorry I'm not Payson, with the maturity of a hundred years beyond her age."

"Don't you mock Payson," he hisses dangerously, and his ferocious defense of her stings her very deeply. She feels as though the small room is slowly being filled with poison gas.

"You don't know her half as much as I do. Let me break it to you: she's not perfect."

"She doesn't pretend to be, either, unlike you. And your boy-toy Carter."

"Boy, you should be her agent, and not MJ, the way you defend her. It's too bad Payson still doesn't want you and your silver medal." He's visibly stirred by her comment. "And Carter was not my boy-toy, you moron. He was my boyfriend."

"Well, spare me from having to listen to your whole sob story again; your sad little, 'I was betrayed by my boyfriend and my best friend, boo hoo I did get a gold medal though but my heart is broken.'" Nicky's eyes are glistening in the semi-dark with malice, and it's so clear that he intends to hurt her with every word. Kaylie wants to punch him, but even though her fists are clenched tight at her sides, there's still some sanity in her, resisting the rage baiting her to let go.

"I don't have to put up with this. You're an idiot and you don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, yes, Ms. Cruz knows everything. I'm sorry, I don't know anything. I was just a pawn in your little games. Well, I hope you got Carter back just as whipped as you hoped he'd be."

Kaylie's jaw slacks, but he doesn't notice because he opens the door violently and steps out, then stops. She follows him out, because she can't stand being in that claustrophobia-inducing room, where she swears their harsh, hurtful words can still be heard as whispers. But she stops right outside the door as well, because the auditorium is dark, and all the visible doors are closed.

Oh no. They closed the club and left them locked inside.

"Yup. That's all we needed," deadpans Nicky with an angry murmur, but Kaylie stalks off, planning to find at least one hole somewhere she can crawl through and flee from this place. She remembers that her bags are still in the locker room, therefore so is her cellphone, and knows that if she can get to it, she can get out. She can escape from his presence, and that's all that matters.

Kaylie is enormously disappointed and downright outraged when she finds out the doors to the locker rooms and to every other room out of the auditorium are closed as well. The windows are all 30ft above the floor and there aren't even any vents to try to squeeze herself through--she knows because she checked them all one by one and found out that even the restroom vents are small and bolted shut. Nicky is apparently trying to use brute force to get one of the doors open, but that isn't working out either.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to realize they forgot us?" she asks tiredly. She has to force the words out because right now she'd rather put a noose around her neck than talk to him.

"Are we being civil now?" he responds acidly and she rolls her eyes. "No, I don't know. I have no idea. You'd think MJ would check with our parents." That's when she remembers her slip and buries her face inside her hands, sliding her back down a wall she'd been leaning on until she's sitting on the floor, knees raised to cover her face. She's feeling so miserable and tired. The day was too long and seems even longer now that, worse than being alone, she's accompanied by a boy who infuriates and hurts her.

After some time which she doesn't bother keeping track of, she's feeling the lull of sleep slowly chip away at her consciousness. She just wants to forget Nicky's words and stop them from echoing in her mind over and over again, as they're doing now. Kaylie unties her hair, lays down on her side, and thinks about how she'd never have guessed the mats could feel so soft and warm.

* * *

Nicky watches her, because she doesn't look back at him and because she looks ready to fall asleep. She finally does, and he uses this opportunity to cover her with his jacket. It's getting colder and she doesn't have the frame to withstand the low temperatures that are going to hit in about two hours. He stays close by in case she wakes up and needs something. Anything.

_'It's too bad Payson doesn't want you and your silver medal.'_

His own exhaustion is impairing his thinking as well, because he decides they need to share his jacket. He's cold too and surely she won't mind it; they slept on the same bed before right? He hates her right now and would rather endure subzero temperatures but he's too tired. He just wants to be warm and asleep.

The thought of Kaylie so close to him is making his chest ache but he swallows his uneasiness and lays behind her, stretching the jacket as much as he can. She has her back to him and his last thought is how her hair still smells like sweet fruit.

* * *

**Day Four**

"Kaylie! Nicky!" It's MJ, Kaylie thinks groggily. Why is she yelling?

Kaylie opens her eyes and realizes her forehead is resting against someone's warm chest. The smell of soap and something citrusy immediately catches her attention and she sits up.

Nicky. _'I was just a pawn in your little games.'_

"Are you two well?" MJ asks, as controlled as always but today with a hint of worry seeping through the edges.

Nicky opens his eyes and blinks a few times before looking at Kaylie. The resentment is so clear she feels as though she's getting stabbed in the chest.

"I'm fine," he replies gruffly.

"So am I," Kaylie agrees, avoiding looking at him now so it hurts less.

As she escorts them to a car, MJ begins a long-winded explanation of what occurred, how the misunderstanding was discovered, etc. Neither Kaylie nor Nicky utter a word in response so when MJ is done, a heavy silence hangs above them.

Kaylie retrieves her cellphone from her bags and sees that she missed 14 calls and has close to a dozen texts, but she's surprisingly indifferent and just puts her phone away without checking anything. She winces when a car's horn blares by because she has a horrible, horrible headache. And is nauseous--not the good kind, that Nicky used to cause either, but that bad kind that makes you want to crawl underneath your covers and emerge only a week later.

Nicky announces for MJ and her whole staff to hear that he intends to train today and not go rest in his home as their agent suggested to compensate their bad night of sleep. And even though Kaylie feels like her health is not top-notch as usual, she recognizes Nicky's challenging glare, daring her to go home instead of training. So she agrees, and braces herself for a very long day ahead of her.

They arrive at the gym and brush hands when they're retrieving their bags from the van's trunk. A sort of defeated calm takes over her and she outstretches the hand that was reaching for her luggage.

"Let's pretend nothing ever happened," is all she says, emotionless but firmly. Gruffly, he flicks his eyes from her hand to her eyes and then grips it.

"Deal."

They turn, and with a sinking, horrible feeling in her gut, she sees Payson and the others smiling and waiting for them at the entrance to the Rock. She reminds herself that she and Nicky have pledged to be civil, even if there's so much tension, heavy in the air around them. Payson waves, her blond hair glistening in the distance, and Kaylie isn't sure whether the wave was meant for her or Nicky. Regardless, Nicky is the one that returns it.

Carter welcomes her first, and she allows him to help her fetch her other bags. She doesn't talk to Lauren about the exposition because of Carter. She's still not that close to Emily and as for Payson... gosh, the more distant she can be from her and Nicky the better. So she settles down for grabbing a sandwich for breakfast with Carter, and summarizes to him her experience in Denver—being careful to avoid anything Nicky-related, of course.

Later, she's performing a 1 ½ Yurchenko on the vault and is mildly upset her landing was slightly off. Nicky is watching, and she doesn't have to wait long for a comment.

"That was really good," he says stiffly. They still are unable to be fully comfortable with one another. "But I've seen you do better, and I know where you made your mistake. I can give you some pointers on how to improve it." Maybe it's just their awkwardness around each other, but she can swear he sounds just like Payson. And it unhinges her nerves, just a little. "You're not training hard enough if you can't land the 1 ½." Now she's offended. Calling her lazy really is the last straw, especially since she usually lands this with no problem.

"Well, I saw part of your routine on the horse. You seem unfocused today. So egomaniacs get distracted too?"

She knows it didn't sound a joke, and she knows that he knows. This is it. Proof that their friendship can't be salvaged. Teasing each other used to be the foreground for jokes, but now there's a load of resentment that makes every word take aim to offend. The rubber band has officially snapped.

* * *

I'll try to update sooner. Please review! =)


	5. Chapter 5: Day Six

**One Week, Day Six**

The flashes begin to blind him within seconds.

_Snap!_

_Snap!_

_Snap!_

Nicky knows the real reason for this press conference, even if Kaylie doesn't, but he won't care. He'll make it a date to be remembered. He adjusts his tie, breathes deeply and calmly.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press," he recites with a perfectly charismatic smile, just as MJ taught him. "Thank you for attending this press conference. Before we get to the topics you are undoubtedly more interested in, I must announce that for those who haven't heard yet, I will be leaving the Rock gymnastics club in Boulder to become part of the Denver gymnastics club." Nicky shifts. The wording is odd. He must rewrite some parts later. "I believe Boulder has taught me much, but ultimately, my transfer has been brought upon by many reasons—and perhaps you've heard of this—mainly my personal life getting in the way of my professional career. I cannot divulge much. Suffice to say..." and Nicky imagines he should give Kaylie wink, since she's probably narrowing her eyes with suspicion if she hasn't caught on already, or will have widened them if she has understood where this is going, "suffice to say, Kaylie Cruz is a fraud."

How long should his pause be, for maximum dramatic effect?

"Kaylie Cruz, the National Champion by luck, not by skill. Kaylie Cruz, the National Champion by a fluke. Victor Hugo once said, 'it is better not to have honors and deserve them, than have them and not deserve them' and this I must say to Ms. Cruz." He'll turn to her, and he rehearses this now, too, looking out of his window. "You have already told me you don't quite meet the standard set by the real National Champion, Payson Keeler. It's a fascinating story. I think it deserves a re-tell."

All right--scenario over. Nicky turns to the mirror once again and stares at his reflection, suppressing the ache in his chest with the anticipation of triumph. He hasn't really thought about last night. He can't even remember what happened between the moment she said "he didn't mean anything" and the instant he opened his bedroom door, buried himself beneath heavy covers, and woke up this morning to pick up a pen and write his speech for tonight. It's his last press conference, because once he leaves the Rock and is no longer associated with Kaylie Cruz, everyone will forget the random guy who won the silver at nationals. The thought saddens him; that no one will ever think he was anything because he failed to win first-place.

The silver medal that wrecked his confidence and sanity is on display in his room, hung high on a wall already overwhelmed by trophies and awards. But it stands out to him, because it reminds him of how much he gave, and how little he got in return.

Honestly, until this Denver trip he had begun to accept his defeat—he really had. He was already planning his exercises for next year, excited because Kaylie told him he'd win. And at the thought of her, his shoulders sag and he lowers his head to look at the ground, and not the world.

_Damn... _she told him he'd win. And he had let that soothe his insecurities. Yesterday he watched the world Kaylie built for him in Denver collapse and now he gets to look at the ruins.

Why can't he just shut her out of his mind? He drags himself back onto his bed and is disgusted when he remembers that he skipped his morning jog, absorbed debating possible revenge strategies. She's destroyed his will to train today. He just can't do it. But, he comforts himself, at least he got his speech done. Now all he has to do is go to the gym and pick up the rest of his stuff so he can pack tomorrow morning.

Nicky is in his truck, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel so tight that anyone watching might have thought he had suspicions it would fly out of his hand if he loosened it. He gets to the gym and doesn't want to confess that he's almost paralyzed with fear that she'll be there, even though it's Sunday and the gym is closed to normal operations. Sasha allows him to retrieve his equipment, and to his surprise, Emily Kmetko is there, looking so intently at the vault that he's relieved she won't notice him there. But she does.

"Nicky!" When she calls out his name, Nicky wants to pretend he didn't hear her and just make his way to his truck as soon as he can, but his bags are heavy. And she was loud, so there was no way he could have not heard her. So he turns, stonily appraising her anxious look. "Hi."

"Hey." Is that it? Can he leave?

"Listen... about yesterday with Kaylie," she begins tersely, but he turns to leave. "Nicky, please. Hear me out. She really, really likes you." Nicky is nonplussed and starts to walk towards the exit, but his speech falls out of his pocket, and he curses under his breath when Emily picks it up and gasps, eyes scanning the page quickly and disappointedly. "Don't tell me this is your speech for the press conference tonight."

He meets her horrified gaze defiantly. "Yes, it is."

For a moment, it looks like Emily will either rip the paper (which won't do any good because he's already memorized it), or will slap him. But the heat dissipates from her expression as quickly as it invaded it, and she calmly stuffs it back into his pocket. "You told us you overheard her telling Carter that she didn't want to be vulnerable to people anymore. That it makes you weak." He nods, faking boredom. But of course he remembers it; he had eagerly approached Kaylie to confess to her that his feelings had surpassed friendly affection, but her earnest conversation with Carter had verbally crushed his hopes. "You wanted to prove her wrong. You wanted a chance. But now you're just going to prove that she was right all along, and she shouldn't let anyone in because they'll just expose her fears to the entire world. And break her heart." Emily is so serious he's almost intimidated, but when she looks away from him and into the pocket where his speech is, he notices that her tone is simultaneously solemn and pleading. "This entire time she thought you liked Payson and was settling for her. Don't you think that maybe that entire speech she made about nothing mattering was just a knee-jerk reaction?"

Nicky sets his jaw. "No. In fact, I think it was very well-thought out and eloquent."

"Fine. Do whatever you want," Emily says angrily. "You'll both be miserable. You're such an idiot."

* * *

Kaylie watched the sunrise. She savored the sight of orange and yellow slowly creep up on the dark night, and then tried to sleep again. A momentary reminder that of course she can't sleep—she humiliated herself and Nicky in front of her friends, and she also slept the entire afternoon yesterday—comes to mind but she brushes it off, and tries again.

"_He never mattered."_

She sits up. The room seems dark again.

"_Nothing mattered. I'm so sorry."_

Kaylie is conscious that there is a heavy, painful discomfort in her chest, but she purposely blocks every thought and empties her mind. For a long while, she stares out of her window and feels the minutes tick by, unaware of how much time is actually passing. Then her cell phone rings, and it's MJ, calling a meeting regarding the afternoon's press conference. Kaylie tunes her off, and her agent's voice is reduced to a faint buzz in her head. A few words and phrases stand out, however: car, pick-up at 4pm, Nicky.

She shuts her eyes and lowers the phone onto her lap. She's done her best to not think about the night before but she can't anymore. Every second is replayed before her closed eyes--hot, angry flashes of memories she'd rather forget. The low murmurs from below are a sign that MJ is still talking, oblivious to Kaylie's distant thoughts. Then the murmurs stop, and she looks down and realizes her agent hung up already.

Nicky's final press conference is this afternoon, and she's uneasy about allowing him to transfer out of Boulder with such hostility between them. Something in her desperately yearns to make things right with him, but she can't. She just can't… too much was said and he's leaving anyway.

She's begun to despise any and all interviews, press conferences, and magazine exclusives. Their questions are always very similar—so similar that MJ has given them a list of approved responses, and Kaylie's never had to come up with an entirely original answer once she memorized the list. Of course, the most persistent question is always concerning whether she and Nicky are dating. It's been consistent and consistently annoying, but they've been able to dodge it well. She's worried today, of course, because if she were asked the question right now she might break down crying.

Kaylie attempts to lift herself off her bed to head for the bathroom but is dazed by a strong pang of headache. _Goddamn…_ she's still sick, and she hasn't taken her meds in a while. She unsuspectingly opens her drawer to grab a bottle of cough syrup, but the sight that first greets her is one that sucks all the air in the room away, and she snatches her hand from the handle, taking an urgent cue from the large knot in her throat.

The pictures are still there—the pictures MJ gave Kaylie, the "leftovers" from her photoshoots with Nicky. The one staring right at her is the one she remembers caught his attention the most, the one that made him remark, "you have a crush on me." It's just laying there, framed by darkness and memories, but she can see his smile when she closes her eyes and she leaps off her bed and takes off.

Kaylie runs like she's never run before. She usually paces herself, watches her breathing, notices the trees to distract herself and make five miles seem like two. But today she's desperate, urgent. Today she's not counting her heartbeats, because they're too hurried anyway. She arrives at her destination before her brain catches up and she realizes just on whose front door she's standing. Boldly, she presses the door bell and nervously fidgets, hands occasionally wiping off some sweat off her brow.

"Kay—"

"Payson. I need to talk to you," Kaylie interrupts. Then, she remembers that she's not that sure why she's there. What is this going to fix? Payson stormed out of the room last night and today she just looks annoyed. "You're… my best friend."

Payson closes the door behind her uneasily and Kaylie feels her watching her intently, making the porch seem so much smaller. "I thought Lauren was."

"I don't trust her," Kaylie states, a little too quickly. "And before you ask, I don't know Emily."

Payson actually sighs; the annoyance is gone and now she's just weary and tired. "Why are you here?"

"Nicky told me I have an inferiority complex." Why is she saying this? She doesn't know—the words are just rushing out of her mind before she has a chance to consider them. "I pretended I had no idea what he was talking about, but I did. I knew about it. I tried facing it, once, and you turned me away because you were still angry about losing Nationals to me. So I decided never to tell you anything else. And never tell anything to anyone, because I could only trust you, and you were never there." Kaylie is breathless and Payson is visibly stunned. "I've been keeping this bottled up inside me, because I couldn't tell anyone. This thing with Nicky was happening, and it was just he and I, closed off, and it felt like the rest of the world wasn't going to catch up, but it did, and then you were in my room, and he was there too, and all I could think about was how I never, ever won when I was up against you."

When she's done, her heart is hammering away inside of her and she knows she's flushed and sweaty, and God knows she just woke up and her hair must be a mess, but none of that matters because Payson is just staring at her and isn't doing anything.

Payson frowns, just slightly, and breaks the silence. "You won Nationals." She takes a step closer to Kaylie, and now she's no longer in the shadows, but out in the daylight with Kaylie. "And Nicky is yours."

"Nicky isn't mine," Kaylie says, but she's afraid that because those words made her want to cry, that sentence might have come out sounding whiny.

"Kaylie, I don't understand you," Payson admits with frustration. "Why are you acting like this? Like you don't have anything, when you have everything?"

"I don't have anything, Payson," Kaylie argues, and now the tears seem to be inching closer to eruption but she swallows hard and plows on. "My parents aren't together. I don't have a boyfriend. I don't have a best friend. And Nationals was a fluke."

"I thought we talked about this already." Payson's impatience evaporates instantly, and now her entire countenance is filled with understanding and compassion. "You're not what you have, Kaylie. You are who you are. I couldn't stand you before, and how you thought you deserved everything, but I don't like you like this, either, thinking you don't deserve anything at all." The blond girl steps even closer to Kaylie's frozen body, and now their distance is friendly, not the two feet that would lead outsiders to deduce they were strangers. "You shouldn't be this insecure. And why do you think Nicky doesn't like you?"

"Because he likes you."

"He doesn't. He and I have talked about this already," Payson informs her reassuringly, but that piece of information still unsettles her. Nicky and Payson talked about it? Talked about her? "He likes you."

"No, he's settling for me."

"Settling?"

"Because you turned him down."

"Kaylie… this isn't gymnastics. It's not a competition. If you're the girl he likes after he stopped liking me, you're not in second place. You're just the girl he ended up preferring, that's all."

"But if he compares me to you—"

"Kaylie! What's wrong with you? Are you listening to yourself?" Payson looks ready to slap her, so Kaylie immediately shuts up. "What if he compares us? He probably already has, and chose you. Stop whining and complaining. I think you got too beaten down by your parents, and Carter, and now you're just unused to good things happening to you. Just accept it. Don't turn Nicky away because you think I'm better than you. Your opinion of yourself is way too skewed right now. And Nicky sees someone he likes, so it doesn't matter that you don't like yourself."

"But Payson…" Kaylie doesn't know why she sounds like she's begging for pity. Maybe she is. Truth is, she just wants to disappear, or at least feel like after all this pain and anxiety and chaos, she's finally nearing the end of the nightmare that began when she found out everyone cheats on everyone and love is irrelevant. But the clock is ticking so many minutes by and soon she'll be in the press conference with Nicky, and everything will end. "He doesn't like me anymore." After the first tear falls, it becomes a lot easier to just let everything go so she does, and begins to cry. A second later, Payson has enveloped her in a warm embrace, and for the first time in her life, Kaylie isn't feeling like a loser next to Payson. She's not in second place, she's just hugging her friend and they're equals.

"Of course he does," Payson says gently. "He's just hurt, that's all. And frustrated because he told you he liked you and then you just kind of shrugged it off."

Kaylie distances herself from her friend's hug just a bit, frowning. "You two have been talking too much."

Payson laughs and wipes a tear away from Kaylie's cheek. "We've become friends, bonding over how to get you to admit you like him."

"I told him I liked him."

"Yeah, and then denied everything in front of your friends." Kaylie sighs, discouraged, and wipes another tear away. "Have you talked to him since yesterday?"

"No. I'm sure he won't want to talk to me."

"He's leaving tomorrow; I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you talked to him. Or you know, tried, at least."

Kaylie wipes the last of her tears away, still worried but relieved of much of the unbearable burden that had been weighing her down. "The conference is in two hours and I haven't even taken a bath yet."

"Wait a second…" Payson steps back to survey Kaylie, then shakes her head with disbelief. "You're still in your pajamas. You ran here. In your PJ's."

"Well, I put my running shoes on," Kaylie defended weakly, wanting more than anything to just stay there, with Payson on her porch, until the conference is over, Nicky's gone, and everything is back to how it was before. But she can't, so she takes a glance at the street and the path through which she so desperately sprinted. "If he hates me," she murmurs absently, "at least he's leaving…"

"You can fix this, Kay," Payson reassures her again. "And it's impossible to hate you. Everyone at the gym's tried, and no one can do it." The blond girl is smiling widely, her dimples carved so clearly in her rosy cheeks. Kaylie wants to believe her, but really, who is she kidding—it's not impossible to hate her; she hates herself.

* * *

Kaylie figures her heart should be racing. Her nerves are a mess and she's shaking. But her heart seems to have stopped, instead.

This is it. She's in a private room adjacent to the conference room where she can already hear journalists and photographers testing out their gear and equipment.

This is it. Her makeup is impeccable and MJ's staff has arranged the lighting, the seating arrangements, the timeline for everything that will take place that afternoon.

Mostly, however, this is it because Nicky is sitting right next to her. MJ is passive-aggressively barking last-minute instructions on her phone, and there are people running, jogging, dashing—well, in various phases and velocities of movement—and there's a distracting amount of noise all around them, but her mind is barely registering these things. Nicky is beside her and she can't think. She can't function.

"Come over here, you two," MJ calls them over to a large desk upon which Kaylie can see a stack of magazines. She numbly complies, and then immediately remembers that Nicky is beside her and her nerves are wrecked once again. "All right, a quick rundown of the overall theme for the press conference."

"I won't be here for much of it, so I'm just gonna go rehearse my speech." Nicky is excusing himself, but MJ shakes her head and calls him over before he can leave.

"Not so fast, Nicky. All the magazines present here want both of you present. And the private interviews post-conference are also for both of you." Their agent is texting and talking to them at the same time, which would be rude in normal circumstances but Kaylie figures it's acceptable now since the press conference is due to begin in only 15 minutes. "And we must be especially courteous because most of the magazines that sent correspondents here today aren't sports magazines. Weekly In Touch and People have been most pressing regarding their exclusive interviews with both, and their readership is much more expansive. Also, let us not forget that today you're being filmed live for ESPN."

Kaylie feels as though she's missed something. Gossip magazines want to interview them? ESPN is filming them live? _Why?_

Nicky is, as always, disgusted at the mere mention of his involvement with the press. "Why do they still want me for interviews? I mean, I won the silver. Why not have the National Champions do this? I have to pack for my move to Denver."

"Perhaps you two haven't been in on the rumors." MJ doesn't sound understanding that their schedules have been hectic and they haven't had time to listen to gossip. "The main reason there have been so many requests for interviews with you two is because the media thinks you're an item." Suddenly, Kaylie is so uncomfortable that she's overtaken by an enormous urge to look everywhere but at her agent and Nicky. MJ steps closer to them and both Kaylie and Nicky step back. "Are you?"

"An item? Us?" Kaylie scoffs with disbelief. "Why are you even asking us this?" She steals a glance at Nicky, who remains stone-faced and offers her no support. "Come on. They've been saying we're a couple for a while now. But they never have any evidence."

"Well," MJ begins seriously, and instinctively, Kaylie holds her breath. MJ's accent made everything sound ominous. "Now they do." Kaylie then watches as MJ lays an open magazine on top of the table before them. She can't contain a horrified gasp. There they are. Three photos of them. Kissing. Three photos horribly large and well-taken, spread in a page headlined by "Kalicky: Gymnastic's Golden Couple."

"Oh my God..." Kaylie breaths. "Denver…" Her heart must have stopped beating for several seconds, until she turns to Nicky, and for an instant she feels a trace of the rush she experienced when they kissed race its way down her body. She almost shivers. But something catches her attention in Nicky's expression, and realization makes her lean away from him, just slightly, as though he were a foreign object in her space. "You knew about the pictures."

"I saw them that same day, on some sort of website. Actually, Payson did and..." Kaylie winces when he says her name, and now the fact that Payson was cheerleading their relationship makes more sense. "She showed them to me."

Kaylie raises a hand to her temple; her headache is strong again and she forgot her medicines at home. She sees worry flash across Nicky's eyes, before he apparently remembers he's supposed to be mad at her, and looks away indifferently.

MJ nods, now efficiently texting in two phones at the same time. "Blogs broke the story the same day of the exposition, but magazines have taken longer due to their printing time in between issues."

"What do you want us to do?" she asks MJ tiredly, but still fighting back a mortified blush when she realizes their agent has seen pictures of them kissing. Never mind the entire nation seeing them--MJ has. "Deny everything? Use the old 'we're just friends' line?"

"Sasha insists you two make it clear you are not dating, for the sake of your professional image, as well as the gym's."

Oh crap. Sasha.

"Really? Even with the pictures?" Nicky asks, but MJ apparently doesn't hear it.

"I've spoken to your parents also," MJ states, and Kaylie expects some continuation to that sentence, but that's it. MJ says no more and Kaylie is resigned to her own horrified thoughts. Her parents have seen the pictures as well. She'll be grounded for 80 years.

"Will do," Nicky agrees curtly and with a distracted, impatient nod, he exits the room and heads to the makeshift dressing room across from Kaylie and MJ. Kaylie's body finally relaxes.

"Kaylie," MJ says, and Kaylie can sense that ominous accent prepare her for bad news once again. "Is everything all right with you and Nicky?" The agent is still there, hardened by the nature of her profession, but Kaylie sees sympathy in her eyes. Not enough to break down her walls, but enough to make her wish the walls had been broken after all.

"Yeah. Everything is fine."

* * *

Five minutes. That's it. Five minutes and he can get out of this hell hole and go home. After his speech, he'll slip away amidst the turmoil that will surely ensue, and escape the "exclusive interviews" MJ has set up. He has the entire path clearly plotted in his mind; which exit to use,which staffers to avoid...

Five minutes and Kaylie will be gone from his life.

They're standing behind curtains that overlook, to the side, the stage upon which their table has been set up in the middle of the Rock's central training area. He can see his designated seat, the thin microphone that isn't leaning towards his chair enough, and the small plastic plaque propped beside it with his name in emblazoned letters. It's a little fancier than he's gotten used to, and he ponders dryly that if it weren't for the fact that they're being filmed and broadcast nationwide, they'd still be using folded papers with their names written with sharpies.

He notices all of this to distract his mind from the fact that she's right there. She's two inches from him, and her smell is intoxicating. She's nervous and keeps fidgeting, probably even more unnerved by the fact that he isn't moving a single muscle.

His eyes dart to the large clock on the wall directly across from where they are—four minutes now. He can't wait; he hasn't been excited about anything since that minute in Kaylie's room when she had kissed him (and then told him she "missed" and had been "aiming for the cheek"). No, don't think about it, Nicky, he tells himself. Remembering how it was when it was good makes him forget the reason why he's about to do this—he has to remember instead the moments that made it awful. _He never mattered. Payson doesn't want you and your silver medal._

He runs his speech through his head for the umpteenth time, because it's been branded in his mind and he's anticipating how effortless it will be to deliver it.

_Thank you for attending this press conference. Before we get to the topics you are undoubtedly more interested in, I must announce that for those who haven't heard yet, I will be leaving the Rock gymnastics club in Boulder to become part of the Denver Elite gymnastics club. I believe Boulder has taught me much, but ultimately, my transfer has been brought upon by many reasons—and perhaps you've heard of this—_

"I was afraid."

Nicky's vision blurs for an instant.

"I thought you were going to be like Carter and my dad, and choose someone else over me."

He can't look at her, but his pulse is exponentially raised, and his mouth is so, so dry.

"When we were in my room… there's so much that went through my mind, Nicky. I was afraid of so much."

Why is his stomach turning? He hasn't eaten anything all day, aside from a tasteless energy bar on his way here. He blinks two, three times. The noise from the press room that had been so intrusive is now mute. The world has gone silent and all he can hear are her soft, fearful, pleading words, crawling in the air and burning his body.

"I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday. I would take it all back; I'd announce it to the world that you did matter and I have feelings for you and I was so wrong. I saw Payson at the door and… I have my defense mechanisms. I lie about things, and try to convince people I am who I wish I was."

MJ abruptly pushes them both from behind the curtains and before Nicky can really register what is happening, he's already sat down and MJ is at a pulpit, thanking the press for the presence and instructing how the questions will be ordered. Nicky slowly lowers his eyes from the table to Kaylie's lap, upon which her hands are stiffly folded. A second later he's at the pulpit, unfolding his speech, even though he remembers everything and has been reciting it under his breath all day.

The flashes begin to blind him within seconds.

_Snap!_

_Snap!_

_Snap!_

"Thank you for attending this press conference. Before we get to the topics you are undoubtedly more interested in, I must announce that for those who haven't heard yet, I will be leaving the Rock gymnastics club in Boulder to become part of the Denver Elite gymnastics club." His voice is devoid of emotion, even though he's trying so hard to be animated about this, and sound like he's smirking with each satisfied word. "I believe Boulder has taught me much, but ultimately, my transfer has been brought upon by many reasons—and perhaps you've heard of this—mainly my personal life getting in the way of my professional career. I cannot divulge much. Suffice to say..." Nicky pauses because his mouth is so dry now. He swallows hard; there's a high-pitched ring whining in his head and he can't think. He focuses his blurry eyes on the paper in front of him, and sees every word sufficiently clearly, and yet he has a mounting difficulty to read them. "Suffice to say," he repeats, and knows this is the part he's supposed to tell the world that she's a fraud—no need to look at the paper. Through the corner of his field of vision he sees Kaylie, downcast and distant, looking as though she is attending a funeral and not a press conference. He's going to make everything worse, isn't he? "Kaylie Cruz…" Say it, Nicky. She's a fraud.

"_Don't you think that maybe that entire speech she made about nothing mattering was just a knee-jerk reaction?"_

"_I have my defense mechanisms. I lie about things, and try to convince people I am who I wish I was."_

"Suffice to say, Kaylie Cruz…" Nicky continues, but the words get caught again before they leave his mouth, and he's embarrassed and angry. Everyone's noticing his little breakdown, eyes lowering to follow the path of the beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

"_Love makes you weak."_

"_She sets standards I don't think I can meet. I wouldn't want to be the one after her in anything."_

"_There's so much that went through my mind, Nicky. I was afraid of so much."_

"_She thought you liked Payson and was settling for her."_

"_I try to convince people I am who I wish I was."_

"_I have my defense mechanisms."_

"_I was afraid of so much."_

"Kaylie Cruz is…" Nicky looks at Kaylie. She's watching him with concern, not hungry, greedy curiosity like everyone else. He can see how heightened it is with her, like she cares.

_I have feelings for you._ She cares.

Nicky loses the battle. "Not the reason I'm leaving. In fact, she's the only reason I have to stay in Boulder." Great—even more flashes now. The whispering has erupted into loud murmurs and the noise from multiples cameras capturing the moment gives him time to think about what to say next, under the pretense that he's waiting for everything to die down. "Kaylie Cruz, the national champion, has been the most supportive person in my gymnastic career. Kaylie Cruz, the person," he amends, and smiles because he now has a clear sense of where he wants to go with this. He looks at Kaylie's discreetly shocked expression. "Is my girlfriend."

* * *

Something was flickering in his eyes when he smiled at her, but Kaylie is allowed only a split second to deduce the point he's arriving at before he says the words that cause an earthquake in her chest. "Kaylie Cruz, the person, is my girlfriend." He proceeds to take her hand and almost as though she's having a dream or an out of body experience, she sees herself standing beside him behind the small pulpit, photographic flashes making her vision swim in white. "We'd appreciate if you'd stop asking us about it in every interview. Thanks very much." He turns to her and she still can't really move. "Let's get out of here." MJ springs to her feet and just as they're leaving, she's taken hold of the pulpit and is attempting to control a wildly excited mass of reporters and cameras.

Kaylie is aware that he's gently pulled her to the back of the gym, and then through the exit doors that led them to their parked cars and all the vans and SUVs with which the press had colonized the Rock's back parking lot. She glances behind her and sees numerous men running towards them from the main entrance. Nicky hurriedly opens the passenger door of his truck and she climbs inside, and then they're driving in silence until he stops by a tree-lined road she doesn't recognize.

"All right, you have to say something now," Nicky blurts out after he's shut off the engine. "Please, say something."

She's on the verge of complying, when he steps out of his truck and leaps to open her door and stare at her nervously. They're positioned at eye level and she relishes being so close to him again after so long—well, it's been less than 24 hours but it felt like a year.

Kaylie smiles and sighs because all that miserable, depressed weight she was carrying around has been lifted. "How did you guess all I wanted was to be embarrassed by you on national television?"

He's grinning, and her stomach performs those somersaults that make the sun seem brighter. "I'm psychic, remember?" She leans in to kiss him, but he steps back and she frowns, almost afraid he's going to take it all back and destroy her world. But no… he's still smiling. "I realize I didn't really ask you to be my girlfriend. I just kind of announced it to millions of people."

"Yeah, a heads-up on that would have been nice," she teases with a laugh.

"So…" He's nervously opening and closing his hands at his sides. "Are we going to have to call another press conference to tell them that we were just kidding?"

Kaylie slides off her seat and leans on the side of the truck. Unconsciously, it seems, he mirrors her actions and moves so that he's standing in front of her once again. He's visibly anxious and she wants to laugh again because he's actually considering the possibility that she doesn't want him. "I'd hate to have another press conference; they really drag…" she says slyly. "So I guess I'm stuck with you after all." At this, she feels his arms slide around her sides and just as quickly, she embraces him as well. When she allows her forehead to rest on the crook between his shoulder and neck, she's momentarily distracted by his scent, taken aback by how much it affects her; how quickly it gets her light-headed. "It's good because Sasha can't get on our backs over this, but I still can't believe you're going to be in Denver," Kaylie mumbles. "How will the paparazzi get their daily fix of Kalicky?"

Nicky chuckles and separates himself from her just a bit, keeping his hands on her waist. "That's not really your question, is it? You're asking how _you'll_ get your daily fix of _me_." She laughs freely, slapping his arm and keenly aware of how his eyes keep lingering on her mouth.

"You _are_ psychic." She raises her hands to his chest. "What am I thinking now, then?"

He swallows hard, and lowers his head so his cheek is leaning on hers. It feels odd to be like this—following every impulse instead of suffocating them like before. "I don't know... tell me." He cocks his head to the side and closes the gap between their lips. Kaylie is lost in the daze of overjoyed emotions swirling in her and making her stomach flip-flop.

She breaks off the kiss to look at him. He's perfect, and now she can stare because he's hers. "That was it."

* * *

**A/N:** So I was out of the country for a month... hopefully I didn't get too rusty and you enjoyed the final chapter of this story. :) I had a lot of fun writing this and am so grateful for all the reviews and all the readers who followed me through this little literary time-travel experiment on romance... I was writing for my own enjoyment, but it's unimaginable how rewarding it is to know other people are enjoying it, too! If you'd like to read more from me, I'm writing another Kaylie/Nicky story; that one is more of a humorous piece and is called "One Month."

(Oh, and was the season finale of Make It or Break It a bummer or what? Was I the only one hoping Nicky would make an appearance? And then just as I was starting to get a little more involved in the whole Kaylie/Carter reunion, he goes for Lauren instead. Oh well, she's better off lol.)


End file.
